You know how I said last week before going out, the one guy who has sort of gone AWOL apart from random Tweets here and there? And that he said he’ll probably come out as he already had invitation to go out? But then on the day he bitched out, but said “if you’re doing something next week”?
Well, I couldn’t fucked texting him, so I sent him a Tweet earlier today.
- ME: friday/saturday?
(I mean surely this would sort of suffice as a general enquiry?)
- HIM: what about them?
(oh for fucks sake)
- ME: out?
(again, surely would suffice as a general enquiry to a stupid question?)
- HIM: What you got planned?
Just… arrgghhhh. I thought we’d go horse-back riding. On a bouncy castle. In ball-gowns. On the fucking moon.
The last one was sent a second before I started this post, so he’s clearly on his computer now. But fuck it. I’ll stick to tweeting. I can’t be fucked.