Write Makes Might

For venting spleens, exposing demons and bearing souls, nothing works like words. Don't believe me? Mince yours and see where you get. My money's on nowhere. Which is why I have always written more than most readers have time to digest or need to know. They call it TMI… I call it 411.

I'm a recent but reluctant convert to a method of communication that's commonplace with teens, 'tweens and geeks:

Texting :-)

I say "reluctant" because the volume and viscosity of my standard missives has historically been of the "dog choking" variety. Today I sent a text that was 70 words long—"War and Peace" in the land of LOL.

If email has compromised my capitalization, texting is destined to turn my spelling into mush. Not because I don't have time to do it right—simply because my sausage fingers are too blunt for accuracy on iPhone's glass keyboard. But that's an excuse.

The truth is, I simply can't keep up. By the time I make one point I can live with, my BFF is XOX TTYS B4 I can blink.

WTF?

I railed against cellmageddon years ago—now I'm part of the flick.

I mean "flock."

fyvk.

I mean "fuck."

Write Makes Might