And yet again...

Seriously? I don't have the brains I was born with.

Ever since I got my handy dandy new phone I have been addicted to texting, with a certain person in particular. It's so much better with a proper keyboard. However, I was introduced to that modern equivalent of drunk-dialing last night: drunk texting. And much as it is so mortifying to realize your drunkenness has been captured forever were you foolish enough to leave a message on an answering machine, it is even worse with texting because you don;t have an excuse. There's no maybe about it - you drunken messages WILL be saved - typos, misspellings and all - on the cellular device of the one you texted. Better yet, you don't have to rely on your alcohol-fuzzed memory to recall the details. Every last one is also recorded on YOUR cellular device. You can wake up the morning after to the sight of your phone on your pillow, then scroll though your conversation and relive the moments - every last horrifying one. Then when said victim doesn't call you in the morning there's really not much mystery as to why.

I have burning urges to text at the best of times. Throw in a couple of bottles of cheap red wine and wild horses can't stop me declaring eternal devotion to someone I hardly know. There really should be a way to retract or delete them - jayzus, they can put a man on the moon but you can't recall incriminating text messages? What is wrong with this world?

I will spare you the gory details but trust me when I say they are mortifying. His response? Better than I could ever have hoped for. Still, I don't know if I'll ever be able to look him in the eye again. Thank god there's text messaging.

Depressed

My ex is a dick and wants to cut his child support payments by 75% now that he has the kids a few extra days a month. I'm done being accommodating but the prospect of the fight ahead makes me want to shoot myself in the thigh.

Dude is still trolling PoF. I occasionally have a look when I'm bored, but I want to ask if he's bored, keeping his options open or looking to upgrade. I'll look all needy-like though. Depressing.

The new Flickr - still shit. Maybe I'm just too stupid to figure it out. Depressing.

Fucking Flickr

God I loathe change. Fucking Flickr won't post my pictures. The day I'm having it's enough to make me hurt someone.

Fuck.

Enough

I'm going to stop talking about the boy. I did find this on PoF, which I find highly amusing (not to say that this has happened.).

When men disappear with no explanation:

1. Phoning Scotty (beam me up, I'm gone).
2. Phoning Home (as in goodbye, Elliot).
3. Getting Probed on the Final Frontier (abducted by little green Aliens).
4. Pulling a Gandalf (*poof* twinkle, he disappears) or the Great Disappearing Act.
5. Getting Bourne Again (as in Bourne Identity-- he's been activated by the CIA)
6. Visiting Hoffa (for Jimmy Hoffa, the disappeared leader of the Teamsters)
7. Trapped with Marcel (from Marcel Marceau, the famous mime- the silent man in the invisible box routine. The invisible box are the acquaintances who run interference for him.)
9. Joined the cast of Days of Our Lives (i.e. he's in a coma).
10. Joined the Boys from Brazil (reference to ODESSA ratlines and the movie about ex-Nazis hiding out in Brazil).

This is also known as the Silent Dump. (And here in Montreal, we also call it Signing Up for the Hell's Angel's Swim Team.)

Har.