The title of this post is my response to Shannaroo's texting bender last night. After texting me her new rule for the 4th of July ("everyone must drink champagne for breakfast") and informing me that we & Gandy are definitely going back to Chicago in a month to terrorize some shit ("No choice. Innit to winnit") she fired off this little gem:
Shanon: What would be your opinion if I boned a 17 year old? Cause there are some hot ones here I'm scoping.
Me: DUDE NO JAIL
Shanon: He asked me if I had a ciggie. It's on.
Duh, of course she texted Shuboner to the cater waiter. Didn't even need to consult the old crystal ball to predict that one. Chicks love drunk texting, what a great way to get all the crazy out in the open! Few things are better than waking up after a night of booze-cruising and seeing what kind of trouble you stirred up with your alkie-stick. Then you try and figure out why your brain decided it was essential to text someone about your favorite part of The Karate Kid and then demand nachos at 4am. At least my phone now saves sent texts, interesting times were had by all when it didn't.
We did eventually reach the conclusion that it's not us who is the problem: