Ridiculexts

I want to believe that the term "Ridiculext" is pretty self-explanatory.

Mr. Collins and I both have a pretty bad habit of sending very cryptic, or just downright strange, text messages - often seemingly without all necessary pieces of information.

On other occasions, we simply text each other when we have an epiphany of some sort; a good example was a week ago while Mr. V and I were staying at the inlaws for the weekend. At 11:30, while in bed, the entire black room lit up with my cellphone's screen.

Just to inform me that via massive religious realization, I should refer to Mr. Collins simply as "The Wholly C." Hey, I agree - I agree completely. I know of no other man in existence who could lend himself to that name and pull it off. Point was, I wasn't even entirely phased by the action of the late night text message with no purpose.

It is, quite simply, how we do.

So for your first Ridiculext pleasure, I present you with something I recently sent to one of my oldest best friends, who is several hundred miles/kilometres detached from me and hasn't seen me in many years:

"I cut off all my hair and dyed it black in homage to my lonely 16yo self, but the glamorous bitch who took over at 19 styles it so well that everyone likes it, and I succeed at failing everything I attempt, including rebelling in misery."

Ridiculexts from here on out will simply be the body of the message, with little to no explanation. Enjoy!