“Mr. Laningham! Put the phone down, and step back, Sir!! Do it now or I will taze your phone and then you!”
I keep wondering when I’m gonna hear this. It must be coming soon. My aggressive txting in the last few days, with thumbs flying and then a rapid push of the return key, has yielded such cryptic doozies as “Fathom, did you sea my postal about the vinaphone program,” and “Tomatoes ate ready for a late UFO.” The first one, I can remember, was intended for a co-worker who, to my knowledge has never gone by the name “Fathom,” however cool that sounds. “Vinaphone” is of course … uh … a Vietnamese mobile network. I don’t remember knowing that before just now Googling the term, and certainly didn’t when my phone chose to insert it for whatever I actually typed. I can’t remember anything about my second note. I have no recollection of what I was intending to type when my phone chose, “Tomatoes ate ready for a late UFO.” But I love that sentence. There may well be a song in there somewhere.