The Joy Of Text
The predictive text input system on my mobile phone learns from the frequency of my word usage and adapts its predictions accordingly. When I first got the phone, input of “9-2-9” would predict “way”. Now it predicts “yay”.
It’s nice to know I send happy text messages.
In fact, further research has revealed that “cunt”, “dick” and “bitch” aren’t even in my phone’s dictionary at all! “Fuck” is right up there at the top of the “3-8-2-5” list though, more commonly used by me than “dual”, “duck” or “eval”, which I suppose is hardly a surprise.
I tend to send the word duck anyway. People get the idea if you tell them they’re a ducking waste of space and they can get to duck. Chubi-app aunts….
I like this game. How are you, Michelle?
I’m doing just fine, you motheretaling cockpuales.
(Damn, my phone dictionary’s weird.)
‘Cockpuales’ makes it sound like your phone’s in some weird Spanish hybrid mode.
And so what if it is, you whose? You plut?
Plut?? What kind of a word is PLUT? I thought the point of predictive text was to give you plausible possibilities. Bloody phones. Give ’em a bit of leeway and they think they’re Shakespeare.
Why is no one playing my game? I just look insulting and insane! Lips my app, you motheretaling aunts.
I’ll take you on, chubi. You can shove it up your BPS, you pig-yanking, shiv-for-brains assimle.
Hooray, now we both look insulting and insane!
HAHAhaha!