Text-styles
Our Friday text messages from Coach are becoming a regular thing.

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Dear Mom: There's still some sperm left in your bendy straw. Love, Dad.

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I was alone today and said, "Chachi" out loud and laughed to myself. Sad.

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Hey, Drunkie, if you're going to wear that orange traffic cone on your head, the least you could do is cut some eye holes.

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My dialogue coach and I just linked pinkies, stared into one another's eyes, and said, "intent!" simultaneously. It's going to be a great night!

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Waiting at a stoplight. To my right is a dude with long hair in crisis. His sunglasses are seriously tangled in his long bangs. He is desperate, racing against the light. With a honk from behind, the light turns green - failure. Dude drives away on the verge of tears, shades dangling over his face.

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Wind and wings, my sweet. Wind and wings.

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Kittenpants

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