Friends, lovers, and family members… It is OK to spellcheck your texts; at least, once in a while. Preferably before you hit the send button. Each and every time; but, I’ll settle for one out of every five messages. *grumbling… I guess. Listen, not every word needs shortening. Or needs to be acronymnated. Yes, I made that up. It’s a Rita-ism. Focus. And please, PLEASE! Stop using numbers to make words. I h8 that.
It’s like a series of written vigilanties wrecking havoc and violating the mind’s eye with their terrible misspellings and lackadaisical linguistics. I can’t unsee the bad grammar. I’ve already been tied to the railroad tracks. Like the ones on the Monopoly board? No, not those railroad tracks. You know if you get all those, you can win that game no matter what someone buys… Just saying. Wow. Anyway, I’m not the vernacular police. And I’m not a literary scholar; but, I do take humbrage when I am privy to those communication booboos. I think… oh looky there. They really sent that. Deliberately.
EX: eye mizz u
“eye miss u?” Are you kidding? What the hell does that even mean? If you meant to tell me “YOU MISS ME,” maybe you need to redo elementary school because that isnt even fucking close.
EX: wya i w8ng 4 u
“wya i w8ng 4 u.” Sigh… I see it. And I want to hit you with my phone.
EX: mary me. yu all i’m need.
“mary me. yu all i’m need.” Kill me. You need more than that. An intervention of letters, perhaps? Well, at least the apostrophe is in the correct place. Or the fact that is has an apostrophe at all, is quite nice too.
Everyone is going to have a mishap here and there. Understandable and forgiveable. This is about the 30-something’s (or older) texting like they’re fifteen year olds who don’t know any better. I often do business via text. Mostly emails and phone calls, or even Skype. However, I highly doubt someone is going to work with me if I leave with them with a “c u l8r.” I’d look unprofessional and immature. You are immature. Yes, I know, overall, yes. I am quite kid-like. But, even in my everyday dealings with friends and family… It infuriates me when I see shorthand in text. “ILY2.” It’s a text! It’s not an email! You’re not going to send me a novel-sized, informative body of work! Nope. You’re going to likely call me, once it’s ominous that I’m near my phone. Ring. Ring. Hello? Hi, you’ve reached hobo station, stopping acronym crime, one foul letter at a time… how can I help you? I can live with that… hearing one’s voice drone on and on; as opposed to, reading some bologna like “pik up som cheez n bred on ur way hm plz.” WTF. Seriously, this nonsense is going to make me resort to violence…
Or hop on a freight train.
C U L8R!