Texts From the Edge

If you weren’t totally sick to death of the mutual lady-love bouncing backward and forward between me and the lovely Kato – and why would you be? why? Are you dead inside? – then here’s a thing.

A random selection of text messages received by me from Kate

You smell like a wet pony

(while I am at work on a sunday) Why am I texting you to tell you I’m drinking wine and catching up on Game of Thrones? WHY DO I HATE YOU?

You are a bean among women A BEAN I tells ya!

I am drinking Pimms. This made me think of you.

(on being asked to text when arriving home after boozy night) Am I home safe or is my kidnapper/rapist forcing me to type these words? You make the call…xx

(on arranging to meet me at a bar) I’ll be the gentleman holding a yellow rose and a copy of Wuthering Heights

Sugar tits, fancy a cold wine and a hot chip? (recurring theme)


About ohhellwhatthehell

I like gin, mittens and otters, not necessarily in that order. Here's some stuff I felt like writing down when I'm not chained to a desk writing other things for a living. Please use caution when using this site; there may be sweary words, cute animals and general bullshit. Don't say I didn't fucking warn you.
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5 Responses to Texts From the Edge

  1. kate says:

    Just READING that made me want a) a cold wine, b) a hot chip, c) you. xx

  2. Eppie says:

    i think i love both you pair of shithawks…

  3. Eppie says:

    shitehawks, i mean. There is, obviously, a difference.

  4. I like it. I shall endeavour to use the word “shitehawk” in my daily conversations.

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