life and- wait. What? He didn't? He did what? Hold on folks- we're
getting a report that, instead of man-sizing his breakfast sandwich and
sprouting an impressive mane of chest hair, Bert has instead decided to
follow up on the silence left by Juanita with another text. Lots of
another texts, as a matter of fact. Here's one:
I know you haven't responded and I said I'd leave you alone, but I'm
having a hard time w this. if you're around, and could stand talking w
me, could you call me. Please?
Um... no? How about no. Have you tried no? Can I interest you in some
NO! How many messages like this can a guy send out with absolutely no
response at all? What's the word for that one thing?... oh yeah: a
hint. Do some people just have their hint-detecting brain parts
lobotomized by their mommies at a young age? What's going on here?
Sadly, these texts and emails continue, unabated, for weeks. Have you
ever seen "The Cable Guy" where Matthew Broderick gets home and there are like 50 messages on his machine?
"Hi, it's me... gimme a call!"
"Me again. Just seeing if you called."
"Hey there- did you just call? I was in the shower. Anyway: call me!"
"What's up? Are you home? Why haven't you called me."
"Just blowdrying my hair, wanted to see if you'd called..."
"Hey Stephen, it's your mother... just kidding! It's me. Call me!"
Yikes. Apparently these people aren't just in movies; check out
this follow up text one day:
I send you a message this morning. Not sure if you got it or not. Not
sure if you care. But I'm dying today and I want to talk to you. If
the answer is no, just tell me to fuck off and I'll be on my way. I'll
(to the tune of hi-ho, hi-ho from snow white) Fuck off, fuck off, I
told you to fuck off. Fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck offff
Try that little ditty on for size. And now, he's not just SAD anymore
ladies and gentlemen, he's.... (drumroll).... dying!! Ohmygod. Sigh.
Will this ever stop? Yo- I don't know. Turn off the lights, and I'll
glow. To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal, ... sorry. Got
sidetracked. That damn Vanilla sure knows how to spit some mad rhymes.
Anyway, so now what? As promised, I will bring you more of this
insane-train tomorrow; but I warn you that there may be no conclusion to
this. No moral, no life lesson, no happy ending. In fact, things might
just get worse. Regardless, it's still hilarious to everyone besides
Juanita and Bert, right? And that's what counts.
See you tomorrow! Smoking Friday!
PS If any ladies read this and have some comments or stories of their own whiny exes, I'd love to hear 'em!