Instagram Quickie - Recreating-Moments-with-Nature Edition

Sometimes, I send Andrew text photos from work in which I pretend to be a deer chewing on a leaf.



*leaf-munching sound effect*

Unfortunately for Andrew, these kind of texts are pretty common. 

Dancing in Winter Camo Gear is Tougher than I Thought

Although Andrew sleep-talks all the time, he sometimes quietly dreams that I do horrible things to him. Upon awaking, he then decides that he's still mad at me, and refuses to talk to me until he is happier (ie. fed). I always thought he was being absolutely ridiculous, until it happened to me last night.

Me: You were a disgusting asshole jerk face in my dream, so I'm having a hard time reminding myself that it wasn't really you

Andrew: Lol what I do

Me: So much douchery. You essentially  blatantly cheated on me and didn't care and wouldn't help me with anything. I had to do an exam at the university and halfway there you saw the Spice Girls walking by and you pulled over and offered to help them instead

Andrew: Lmao

Me: And you were flirting with them right in front of me. So I had to walk all the way to the university. And I didn't know the way so I was walking in circles. And I was panicking because I was going to be late. And you kept my laptop because Baby Spice wanted it so I had nothing to take notes with.

Andrew: Lol

Me: And I got to the university and it was Hogwarts looking and I decided to try and sleep with someone to get revenge on you. But no one wanted to because I was dressed in school clothes and couldn't buy myself a drink. And then I found out that you showed Ginger Spice the video of me dancing in your camo suit. Which was the ultimate betrayal. 

The aforementioned video was made when Andrew recorded me dancing around in his giant insulated snow camo suit. He was being a grumpy toddler and I decided to cheer him up. It was a success.

After I found out he recorded my dancing, I made him promise he would never show anyone without my permission. Especially not to Ginger Spice. 

 

(I was dancing to "Moves Like Jagger", because obviously. Look at this this still. I'm an amazing dancer.)

Me: So I decided to change my Facebook status to single to make a point. But I didn't have my phone or laptop so I couldn't. It was very stressful and upsetting.

Thankfully, Andrew was able to send me cute pictures of puppies, so I couldn't stay angry at him for much longer. 

Although I will never be able to look at the Spice Girls the same. 

Whores.

I'm Sick and Tazz is a Psychopath.

Sorry for a lack of posts these past few days, but I've been super sick. Fortunately, I've been milking it for all its worth with Andrew. When life gives you lemons that make you nauseous, you make lemonade with electrolytes to keep you hydrated.

Anyways, here's a few photos and texts my mother sent me yesterday after she came home from work:

Mom: Guess who had fun this afternoon?

That's right. It's the one and only Tazz and what we thought
was her favourite bear.

Mom: At least its contained to the crate.

Me: She went straight to the heart.

Mom: Funeral for the bear at 6.

Me: I don't think I can make it.

Mom: Aw poor bear... I'll say a few words on your behalf.

Me: Thanks, I really appreciate it.

Mom: You are welcome to visit Tazz in jail... for premeditated murder. Forensics are coming over to investigate.

"We're sending the stuffing over to the lab to analyze it for DNA."

 

A Second Case of Mistaken Identity. Texting-style.

While finishing up my secret project (part one), I receive this text.

hey do u no jerry ryder? is he ur boyfriend

You know I can't help myself in this situation. I wrote back:

No, I don't know Jerry Ryder. Like your writing skills, you must have misspelled the phone number.

Proud of my clever (albeit bitchy) response, I showed the conversation to Andrew.

Andrew: I don't get it. What did he spell wrong? 

Me: ... I don't think we can be together anymore.

While in some ways, Andrew and I are quite similar, in many ways we are so, so different.

Texting with Andrew: Infidelity Edition

After I had texted Andrew to let him know that I was doing some hot yoga after work on Friday, this conversation happened. (Note: I will be adding punctuation to Andrew's texts to make them understandable to the average human being.)

Me: Do you have any plans tonight?

Andrew: I'm going to go see the mistress.

Me: I heard she stopped taking her birth control pills, so make sure to bring rubbers.

Andrew: Oh wow. She never told me. She must be trying to trap me.

Me: That's how they get you - nine months later and BAM: 18 years of child support.

Andrew: Haha. That's hard to hide from you too. 

Me: You'd give it away so fast. I'd wake up to take the dog out and you'd be like "What, does the baby need changing?" 

Andrew: Haha yeah, in my sleep.

Me: And then: death by pillow.

Andrew: You wouldn't kill me... lol 

Me: If you had a secret love child, I just might.  

Andrew: lol. Ok, I'll try not to have one. Have fun at yoga.

Me: Thanks! Have fun with the whore.  

Andrew: I always do.
 

And then after class.

Me: Leaving class now. Put the whore away.

Andrew: Ok, she's gone.  

Me: Good. I don't want to see her Herpes face. 

Andrew: No, you don't. It's scary!

Me: You'd think you would go after prettier sluts. Standards, Andrew, standards!

Andrew: Yeah, well I don't. I have the prettiest one now. :) 

Me: Awwwwwww!

       Wait. DID YOU JUST CALL ME A SLUT???

Andrew simply responded with this emoticon:

 

 

And conversations like these are why we tend to avoid going out in public.

 

 

P.S. In case you didn't get that Andrew has an unfaithful sense of humor, no, he doesn't actually have a mistress. Well, I guess his best friend Jason can count as his mistress. His totally not gay and very manly mistress. 

This is Why We, as a Couple, Work

This text exchange just happened.

Me: You know what would be the best Valentine's Day present?
Andrew: No
Me: A peacock. Preferably one named Jerry.
Andrew: Not this time of year.

He is not saying no to a peacock. He is saying not right now. Which really means that he will eventually get me one.

This would make us the absolute coolest people ever.

Yes, Jerry. Yes, you are.



Bi-weekly Time with Andrew

I like to call this special time "When I start yelling, it means they wrote it in Caps."

Pretty much everyday, I get bored answering phones. So one of my go-to websites for a little pick me up is damnyouautocorrect.com, where the proof is presented that iPhones like to make you send inappropriate messages to your parents and pastor by changing your words, like this:

HahahahahaBLURGH!

I then read approximately 5 pages of these texts, trying extremely hard not to laugh outloud. This results in shaking, crying, occasional snorts, and finally the feeling that I'm going to throw up. Right before I start heaving, I change websites to something more tame, because throwing up in public is so 7th Grade.

Okay, back-story ended.

This is what happens. Every other week or so, I'm sitting on the couch with Andrew when I suddenly remember autocorrects, how they rock my world and how Andrew avoids reading like the plague, and so wouldn't have read any lately. I turn to Andrew and say "Hey, do you want to read some damnyouautocorrects?!" He answer "Ok". His facial expression rarely matches the manic joy on mine.

A Peace of my Mind.

I hope there's no tide coming in... Also, GROOVY, BABY!

While driving like a madwoman back to work from a meeting with my academic advisor (damn thesis. Making me eligible for higher-paying jobs through further education. I SHAKE MY FIST AT YOU.), a Mini Cooper drove by with both the driver and passanger flashing me a peace sign. I am so cool.

I also texted Andrew immediately to tell him how cool I was. Which probably canceled out my freshly-acknowledged coolness.

Pregnancy Mystery Partially Solved

So, last night, my friend Miss Love starts texting me.

Miss Love:  What's up?!

Me: Finishing work.

Miss Love: What are you up to tonight?

Me: Working on my thesis. :(

Miss Love: Are u prego?

What. The. Ruck. How the hell did we get back at this?! Seriously. I thought we were over this shit. At this point, I am extremely peeved. Okay, I'm hella pissed off. While I feel like going apeshit on my friend, I calm myself down and write to her in a more friendly manner.

Me: WHAT? No! Where the hell did you get that?

Miss Love: Nanny and Grampy said that.   

AH HA! So it is Andrew's grandparents that are spreading the rumor. Not only did they tell her that, but they also told her twin, and Lord knows who else in the family. I would say really nasty things right now if they weren't so old and cute (really, they are so adorable). And they give us ah-mazing homemade bread and butter. And they sometimes let me name their cows.



So Andrew and I actuallty had to call some of the family to do damage control, assuring people that we did not want baby clothes for Christmas. And I got so pissed that Andrew let me know that he'll talk to them to let them know that "no, I am not carrying developing offspring within my body" (thesaurus.com defined the word "pregnant" that way, so I will too).

I need to develop a six-pack and walk around in a bikini all the time.
-----------------------
Say the word "manner" a bunch of times. Think about it, really think about it.  What a weird word. I almost didn't use it because I got really confused and started doubting whether it actually is a word or not. Man-ner. Ma-nner. Mann-er. ManER.

Texting: Life's New Method of Rejection

This just happened.

Andrew: :)

Me: :D I think I love you <3

Andrew: This is way to fast for me back down woman
(Translation: This is way too fast for me. Back down, woman!)

It's nice to know how much he cares.

Text Time with Kaitlyn

So last night, after I found my MIA cell (it was in the car lodged between the seat cushion and the door. I think my fat ass squished it there.) I decided to text Kaitlyn again. Apparently, she's just as dumb when she's calmed down, but she also gets somewhat boring.

Me: Found your ex yet?

(I get straight to the point.)

Kaitlyn: Huh?

(Picture one of the seven dwarfs saying it. Cause that's what I pictured when I read it.)

Let's ironically go with Happy.

Me: Well, you texted my partner for hours to get your watch back, so I assume you were perseverant enough to actually reach the real Matt.

Kaitlyn: Ohh no I just told my friend to tell him I'm selling his shit if he don't come get it

(She's a classy gal, that Kaitlyn.)

This is what I imagine Kaitlyn and Matt look like.



I'll check in later to see if she sold his stuff or not.

A Case of Mistaken Identity. Texting-style.

2:02 - Andrew is currently in a text war with some girl called Kaitlyn who thinks he's actually "Matt". She apparently wants her watch back, which cost her 90$. Andrew also owes her 40$. She's not believing that she's got the wrong number.

2:15 - Andrew decided to have some fun and told her that he traded in the watch for a six pack.

2:30 - We just found out Andrew is her ex. I am also a 15 year old ugly, greasy tramp who looks like a man. I also presume that I helped him cheat on her.

3:00 - She's not believing Andrew whatsoever. She's going on about how Matt pretends he's tough shit, but she's seen him cry a bunch of times, and that he killed his dog. And then cried.

3:26 - Kaitlyn is going on about how "she's not stupid" and that "jake" gave her the number, so it's the right one.

3:45 - She's getting angry and calling Andrew names now, and demanding her money.

3:55 - I've decided to join in on the texting war. I'm going in.

Me: Kaitlyn?

Her: Who's this :s

(Good, she's scared. I'll stay persistent)

Me: Is this Kaitlyn?
 - Yeah, this is obviously Kaitlyn.

Her: Who is this
 - Lmfao not gunna say?

(Is she taunting me?!)

Me: Please stop texting my partner. He was entertained at first, but now he's tired of this.
(I'm not going to be a bitch straight out of the gate. Who do you think I am?)

Her: Who's this

(God, she's annoying. Plus, she doesn't know proper punctuation use. Minus one point for Kaitlyn.)

Me: Andrew's common law.

Her: Lmfao that's my ex boyfriends number n I know it

(Oh dear Lord. Not only does she not get it at all, but she also just used a letter as a word.)

Me: Seriously, if he was your ex, you should know his number better. But I'm glad you're getting a kick out of this as much as we are :)
 (At this point, I'm being kinda condescending, I know. But I can't help it.)

Her: Seriously it is cause I have it in my phone

(What the hell kind of logic is this? Is her phone all-knowing?)

Me: Well, maybe you put it in when you were drinking? I admire your conviction, but you definitely have the wrong number.

Her: I've been texting that number since july soo

(Ok, this girl is stupid. I'm bringing in some concrete evidence.)

4:15 - She's been texting us for about 2 hours now. She's quite persistent.

Me: And is this his dog? Cause it's ours for sure. And I've seen his license. 100% sure there's no double life going on.

4:26 - No messages from her yet. From a text a minute to this, I think she's done.

(But I need to throw in the last word. Again. :P)

Me: I'm glad you finally got the message.

I think I'll message her again tomorrow :)