This morning I tweeted this:
"Tres excited for the Mac Attack tonight with my favorite lady!"
And then my phone blew up with the following conversations (and a special shout out to Google Hangouts for allowing e'eryone to see when I'm online, which is always since I have a smartphone #DamnItAll).
Y: Ahem, I thought I was your favorite lady?
Me: You're one of my favorite girls.
Y: Excuse you, I am not a girl.
Me: lol And not yet a lady. But give it some time whislt you're in between.
Y: LOL. How you attract women when you can quote Britney Spears is beyond me.
Me: lol You're still here, aren't you?
Y: So true.
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Sister: Hey! I saw your tweet. I don't get any love?
Me: You know I love you, and you're one of my favorites, but Mom is considered a lady. And you is not.
Sister: LOL. Yeah, Mom - who has made two racially insensitive jokes in the last three days - is a lady. Okay.
Me: LOL. That's how I like my ladies - smart, funny, and occasionally wildly inappropriate.
Sister: lol Ain't that the damn truth.
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Youngin: I want to go on record as saying that I'm already suicidal about not being able to go to the show...you need not rub it in via social media. #Scoundrel
Me: LOL. Wtf calls someone a scoundrel anymore?
Youngin: Ladies. Suicidal ladies, that's who!
Me: Well hold off on the suicide until the show is over.
Youngin: lol Your concern is overwhelming.
