So Ric, who met me in a bar tonight somewhere in Chicago, text-messaged me at 3 a.m. and asked “what are u going to be on.” It’s too bad I don’t know what the hell that means. What am I going to be on? Um, Oprah? The Daily Show? Vicodin? My period? Interstate 10 when it reopens? My desk chair? MySpace? WTF??
But it was fun to text him back and let him know he dialed the wrong area code, because it gave me a chance to tell him to play safe. I’m sure he’s all, WTF? back at me now inside his head. Or he may pause and think that the universe is trying to tell him to wrap that rascal. You never know…
And I’ll give Ric credit. If he’s going to misdial my cell phone, at least he’s on MY schedule.
Ric, don’t be silly. Put a rubber on that willy!
Wow, wrapping up the bad boys must be a universal conversation today. I had that talk with my almost 16 year old son AGAIN. I’m sure he’s sick to death having to listen to me telling him to WRAP IT UP EVERYTIME, NO EXCEPTIONS!
My view is and has been for years…THERE ARE WORSE THINGS THAN GETTING, OR GETTING SOMEONE ELSE PREGNANT…LIKE DYING.