Monday evening, I noticed four text messages I received from a number I did not recognize with a 985-area code:

Hey babe

Heyy mehh foxyy ladyy

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Heyyy babee

Yes, I was a victim of sexy wrong-number texting.

Assuming the problem would resolve itself, I ignored them. I've fielded a few wrong-number calls on my phone since I moved to the MPLS, and I figured that this guy would realize his mistake when he sobered up on Tuesday.

I was wrong.

At 7:14 a.m. on Tuesday, I received yet another text from the same number:

Good luckk... This morning with ur dance practice

And again, during Six-Ring Circus rehearsal that night:

Heyy babee

Heyy mehh sexyy foxxyy ladiee

Heyy mehh sexyy foxxyy ladiee

Heyyyy

Annoyed, I showed the texts to my old improv coach, tech guru Chuck, after the show, complaining that I would have to block the number. He chided me, pointing out a potentially-missed opportunity to fuck with the life of a total stranger.

I met up with bupwethern and carinbrat at Green Mill, explained the situation, and unfolded our revenge plot. It started with a text from me:

Hey cutie I missed ya

When we didn't get a response forty-five minutes later, I sent another message:

Y r u ignring me

Immediately:

What u mean dis is bailey rite

Oh, it was on.

U kno who it is dont fuk wit me... I m wet

Who

At this point, I handed the phone off to bupwethern, who took his time carefully crafting the appropriate response:

U been txting me. I thought youd wanna hear about my dance practice. Ill dace 4 U";)

What ur name and i memt to send that 2 my gf my bad

Well, the jig was up. The honorable thing to do was confess:

You have been erroneously texting me for the past 48 hours. I do hope you resolve the matter with your "hot snatch." Best of luck with the poontang, dear sir.
Best regards, Tyrone Bibbins, Esq.

I haven't received a text from him since.

I had imagined a scenario, though, where I would read a story on nola.com about a young woman tragically murdered by her boyfriend, the circumstances stemming from a misunderstanding over text messages. And then, because there's something wrong with me, I imagined this:

On the season premier of Law & Order: SVU, a brutal murder, ripped from the headlines!


"What kind of monster would do this, Elliott?"


"This was about text messages, Liv!"


"You don't understand, detective! She told me she was wet!"

And you won't believe where the investigation leads them!


Duhn duhn!

Whites Only.

Tags: astronomy, planets, writer's block

NEW PLACE! Here's some pics:


Here's the foyer. Bedroom's through the door on the right, and the living room's to the left.


Another angle of the foyer. The door with the mirror leads to a closet.


Shot from the bedroom at the same closet door mentioned above. On the right is the bedroom closet. The bathroom is on the other side of the left wall.


The bedroom window.


Another shot into the foyer, this time from the living room.


Here's the dining room. The closet on the right conceals an ironing board.


The kitchen. It reminds me of my kitchen back on Cate St. in Hammond.


The kitchen sink.


Stove and fridge.


The dining room, shot from the living room. My computer desk will probably go in that lower right corner.


The living room. The previous tenant left me the couch and the small table behind it. She also left me a 13" TV.


And in this closet in the living room is a murphy bed!


Here it is.


And a full shot of the living room taken from the dining room. The murphy bed will be up unless I have guests.

carinbrat has offered her decorating advice/services at my request, because a colorblind guy really needs a second opinion.

So anyone who wants to visit (*cough daybreaker cough*), I got a place you can stay.

The master plan, of course, is to enter both Chrysler Building and Thunderclown in the New Orleans Improv Fest. I can spread everyone throughout Mandeville; some people can crash at the house, and I can cajole Uncle Steve & Aunt Meera and Auntie & Deann (both couples live next door to each other!) to take some folks. Maybe Andrew can host, if necessary (which is where I would stay).

There should be a Project: Improv reunion thrown in there somewhere, too.

There is a very small man on LiveJournal. I assume it's a man due to his idosyncratic, sociopathic behavior. I also assume he derives an ego boost from the superiority complex of lording "perfection" over his subjects.

Yes, I'm a stickler for grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Yes, I'm an idiosyncratic sociopath. But this gentleman has crossed a line of manners and respect I normally reserve.

As such, I am in the process of misspelling every interest under my bio. Join me, won't you?

Treats and goodies are all over the office!

We're playing fun games to induce productivity!

January has been declared Casual Month!

Just ignore those murmurs of 10% workforce layoffs in every department for Q1 of 2009!

In less than a year of ownership, my Blackjack II smartphone's ringtones, including the factory default ones, have corrupted, the keypad is twitchy, the keypad markings have rubbed off, the center wheel has become less responsive, and the center button has almost completely crapped out. Window's Mobile, much like Windows itself, is a flawed OS.

This phone is garbage. Do not buy.

I will be in the market for a new goddamn phone that actually works. Suggestions welcome.

Here's the breakdown:

R.E.M. | Accelerate

The Rumble Strips | Alarm Clock

Yeasayer | All Hour Cymbols

The Raconteurs | Consolers Of The lonely

Cloud Cult | Feel Good Ghosts (Tea-Partying Through Tornadoes)

Elbow | The Seldom Seen Kid

Nine Inch Nails | The Slip

Joseph Arthur and The Lonely Astronauts | Temporary People

Portishead | Third

Sons And Daughters | This Gift

I stand by each of my choices, all you judgemental hipster d-bags!

Wells-Fargo canceled my check card because they believed someone was using it.

Yes. That someone was me, jackasses.

Now I have $14 in cash in my wallet, and a book of checks, which no one takes anymore. I can't access an ATM, and banks won't be open until Monday.

Is it my paranoia, or is this a ploy to make me use my credit card so they can accrue more interest from me?