Ed’s Note: Monica murdered Freddie, yesterday. Guess there won’t be any more requests for Fred to drop dead on Elm Street, huh? Don’t worry if your name’s not Fred, I’m coming for all you texters right now.
Dear People Who Enjoy Dodging Phone Calls:
In recent days, I’ve been in cars with two drivers who have had my life in their hands. But their hands were concentrating on texting while driving. If you think texting is so essential to your life that you must endanger mine, I have a simple message for you that you should be able to decode: GTHOHWTBC! Yes, this necessitates an exclamation mark.
OK, let’s get serious. Text messaging is of the Devil. I believe that God and the Devil came to an agreement about text messaging. In order to prevent a major Tsunami-like disaster, God allowed the Devil to introduce the text message to our world. It’s not quite a Tsunami, but texting has become quite disastrous.
I know that’s far-fetched, but it should be a sin. I hate texting that much. It’s ruining the fabric of American communication: the spoken word. Hell, it’s destroying the written word. Too many kids are turning in homework spelling straight as “st8” and enough as “enuf.”
I’m going to give it to you straight: It’s enough.
That’s just a start, though. Kids don’t know how to converse. They “conversate” via text. They could care less about learning to write. They think the best way to profess their “love” “like” for someone is sending naked pictures that will be forwarded along (boys will be boys). That’s why we have 14-year-olds tagged as lifelong sex offenders. *SMH*
This is real. We’ve all seen/read the stories. Hell, some of you have seen the pictures. It’s serious stuff. And that’s just the kids.
There’s still the frivolousness concerning your kind. You know, the adults who attempt to have serious conversations via text messaging. … What are you thinking? Better yet, are you thinking?
This annoys me to no end. If you’re close to me, and you text me with a serious question you already know what’s going to happen: I’m calling you. I don’t care if it annoys you. I’m just returning the favor while trying to recondition you in regards to how I operate.
Don’t ask me how I’m doing via text message, either. Sure, I can text “fine” back. But that doesn’t tell you anything — accept that I’m pissed at you for asking me that potentially loaded question via text.
If I have a story to tell, and I likely do, I’m clearly not using my thumbs and 160 characters to tell it. That’s not a good look method of communication. Call me or answer the phone. Meet me in person. Facebook, e-mail, tweet or IM me. Write me a letter (@Comeback, Weave reply reminder). It’s simple.
If this is your preferred method for relationship upkeep, you don’t deserve the attention of your interest. No, you deserve the attention of two parakeets mocking every sound that you make better known as chickenheads. … Then again, you wouldn’t have to worry about the mockery because you don’t talk. You text. *SMH*
Now, I’m not saying that all texting is bad. The “meet me here for happy hour” text is cool. So is the “I’m running 30 minutes late” message — so long as you’re not tardy for your own wedding or to pull a pot roast out of the oven. I don’t even mind the Merry Textmas fest that goes on during the holiday season.
Just don’t be crazy enough ask what I want for Christmas via text. Actually, go ahead. This is how I’ll respond: “… For Santa to remove your thumbs after he’s had his (channel Bernie Mac) ‘milk & cookies’ so that you will not be able to text me with questions meant for a phone call” … or I could just repeat myself and type “for you to ‘GTHOHWTBC.'”
Yeah, that would save time and effort.
PS2. If you disagree, feel free to explain why because I’m curious as to why people prefer texting so much over actual conversation.