James Veitch is who I am honestly too polite and not clever enough to be most of the time. I once responded to someone who had texted me in the middle of the night, but I just couldn’t carry it off to the levels Veitch manages.
See? And just so you know (if you happened to have noticed when I responded), I forget my phone for long stretches, so if I don’t respond right away (usually because I don’t have a special notification sound set for you), I’m probably not ignoring you.
Veitch constantly amazes and amuses me. I wish I had even a tenth of his wit. Those crazies who email me wouldn’t stand a chance.
I really wish I’d been able to draw out my mystery texter like this …
Oooh … the Nigerian prince story gets an update!
So, where’s my toaster?
This almost makes me miss having roommates. Not enough, though, to want them.
Who among us hasn’t wished for a quicker, sharper sense of humor when the perfect opportunity presented itself? Thinking of the perfect retort two hours later is small comfort.
I'm a retiree in his seventies. That may not be significant to many, since there is a bunch of us Baby Boomers around. However, in the year 2,000, when I received a diagnosis of Multiple Myeloma, I expected to be dead in three to five years.
Who among us hasn’t wished for a quicker, sharper sense of humor when the perfect opportunity presented itself? Thinking of the perfect retort two hours later is small comfort.
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I know. It’s not fair. 😂
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