Text Wars With Twinkle Toes...

Twink: (who was sending me the phone number of my mate John the Painter; who has just been given the all clear of Leukaemia after getting it fifteen-or-so months ago; His bone marrow transplant was successful! Yay John!)

"!@#$%^&*()'s the number Dribble Tits."

Me: (Who's been out of credit until today- so could not text back at them time. Instead I silently laughed and fumed at the same time until I could exact my revenge)

(Then this morning after I pick up my new Nokia phone)

"Dribble tits hey? "

(NB I'd wanted to say more but was having trouble working out my new phone and pressed 'send' before I'd actually finished directing my insults at him. But Before I can respond again he sends this back...)

Twink: "If you could call them tits at all"

Me: (Gnashing teeth slightly but grinning wryly at the thought of comebacks I shall exact...)

"Well said; Seeing as u r the authority on tits after all. Just b warned I have 999 letters per sms and plenty of credit with which to bombard you with long-winded insults"

(NB In reference to Twink being an authority on tits; he himself has a B cup and put mine to shame. The sad thing is we are both jealous of the other's tits; he because he wishes his were smaller- and me because I wish were mine bigger...)


Twink: "I have 1000 letters unlimited credit more brain cells so bring ur A game"

Me: "Bring it on Fingersmith"

(NB: Twink and I have a long standing feud on the word Fingersmith. If you want to know why comment and let me know and I'll tell you all about it; but it's a very long and ultimately uninteresting debate we have about the origin of words- he thinks he knows better than me and he doesn't)

Twink: "No ur a druggie bitch :)"

Me: "Fair call; I am having a hot one as we speak. Form your own conclusions. Try Hard."

(NB Hot ones are cones for the unenlightened...)
Twink:

"No need to try how many times do I have to tell u I'm a champion?"

Me:"Too many times let it be known you are the official Non-Champion-of-the-day. Well done Fingersmith!"

Twink: "Stick two fingers ur no wordsmith"

Me: (NB I can't actually remember what I wrote back to him at this point; as I was now stoned and deleting them as I went. And Not because I don't want anybody to see them- because they are always mindless drivel; though I'm Curious with Myself now for pointing that out...)

Twink: "Making it up as you go, a sign of very bad form"

Me: " So what do you do then- you telepathetic genius- make it up the night before? Maybe you are god afterall as you claim"

Twink: "Bout time u became aware of my talent don't forget again u buffoon"

Me: "Google That god!"

Twink: "Google crashed when I entered it guess that's what you get when you listen to an arts grad"

(NB Twink did a semester of a Science degree; back when Adam was a boy...)

Me: "Touche Douche"

Twink: "I win"

Me: "Only cos I'll let you"

Twink: "Now Now"


The End.

Or is it...