Dinner With My Text

Tilly (Photo credit: Digitalorthodoxy) Not a picture of me but isn’t she cute?

Write about what you did last weekend as though you’re a music critic reviewing a new album.

Tilly Bud has been silent for three weeks but on Sunday she finally went back to church.

How we wish she hadn’t.  She still has real pitch issues and half way through ‘Nearer My God To Thee,’ she nearly was because the congregation couldn’t take much more.  Fortunately, the inspired coughing fit from an under-used voice box that livened up the second chorus saved the day.

We waited almost a month for Tilly’s reappearance, which begs the question: why?  It’s Bye-bye! not Buy!  Buy!

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Describe the most satisfying meal you’ve ever eaten in glorious detail. 

I don’t think I’ve eaten in that restaurant.

I would never patronise an establishment that uses only lower case letters in its name.

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If you could un-invent something, what would it be? Discuss why, potential repercussions, or a possible alternative.

telephone (Photo credit: Sean MacEntee)

Text speak.

Why?  If you don’t know, you must be a teenager.

Potential repercussions – my boys would never talk to me again. By mouth or phone.

Possible alternative – the actual words.

I’m guilty of cunctation in answering this prompt because I suspect I’m in a minority.  I don’t believe in the purity of language – it lives and grows and changes and that’s fine; but I don’t want to witness the return of near-illiteracy.   A balance must be struck: evrtng n moderation.

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Write an ode to someone or something you love. Bonus points for poetry!

Double bonus points for adding a tune?

Sing this to I Like Big Butts by Sir Mix-A-Lot.  Don’t look up the actual lyrics because this is a family blog.

I love real words and I cannot lie!
You other bloggers can’t deny
When a kid sends you an itty-bitty text
You wanna throw it in his face
You get rung
Wanna get real tough
Cuz you can’t tell him to get stuffed
In text speak into the jeans he’s wearing
I’m cross and I can’t stop swearing
Oh my boy I wanna throttle that
Fone you always carry
My husband tried 2 warn me
dat dat fone U got
mAk me so angry
U sA U wanna git n my hands
I won’t buy U cuz I ain’t yor avg nd usr

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I found a great site for those of you who would like to be able to understand the texts your children and grandchildren send to you: Transl8it!  

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Well-spotted, those of you who identified ‘bleb’ as yesterday’s word.  

It is a small blister, rather like me on a rant.