On Kolaches. I think.

Rs27: "I'm at the mort prentdniour bar in la. it stinks. wherf the kadhes at?"

BWP: "Kalaches?! Those have meat ew im eating rice w one eye jvst saw a racoon its weird"

On the Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack

Jacques: I never saw Slumdog Millionaire.  What does that mean?

Clover: I never did either.  I blame white people freaking out about the annoying soundtrack for six months.

Jacques: So awful.  I couldn't believe how annoying that music was.

Clover: I KNOW.  I was all, Jai Ho-w fast is this gonna be on "Stuff White People Like?"

Jacques: Jai-NO!

Clover: That just made my coal heart shimmer.

On Aziz Ansari

Rs27:  Some guy just asked me my thoughts on the tamil tigers in Sri Lanka.  I gave a dissertation on cows in India.  #diffusinganawkwardsituation

Clover: You should have just said Aziz Ansari is Tamil and he is like rawr!  And just left it at that.

On Christian Bale

Clover: Is it weird that I decided to see Night at the Museum instead of Terminator Salvation as I'd planned?  And that watching it I still don't understand this decision.

BWP: Any movie where things come to life is always guaranteed to rule.  Although you chose it over a movie with Christian Bale, which confuses me.

Clover: I just wasn't feeling the apocalypse.  But believe you me I always choose to have Christian Bale over me.

BWP: I would like for him to terminate me like an American psycho in bed in the middle of the dark (k)night.

Clover: More like Terminator SALIVATION.

On getting back in touch

Clover: I am now following you on Twitter.  What WHAT.

Friend:  Yes!  I almost texted you a few times last week.  But thought it might be too out of the blue.

Clover: Ha ha ha.  How do you circumvent that?  You shoulda been all, "this is a pre-text.  Real texting to follow next week once you let it all soak in."  I'm gonna start doing that to people.

On Educating Others

"maybe is yes in swahili"

On Bullying Others

"Whatever leprobhaun! I just fought a guy!"

On Lame Parties

"youre still there? eating goldfish? welcome to sesame street"

On Impressing Strangers

Friend: CLOVER.  I made out with my ex last night.  She's a whore.  I may have herpes.

Clover: I just showed your text to a dude I just met to prove I had the Funniest Friends In The World, but now I think I just proved I have whore friends with possible herpes.

On Impaired Vision

"can you jell i typed this w one eye open only like cyclops"

On Mental Health

Clover: If seratonin could talk to me it would say "I want no part of your life, bitch." or at least that's what I think it would say since i haven't seen it around these parts since 'Nam.

BWP:  Seratonin?  Happiness?  Not crying alone in bathroom stalls?  Im not familiar with these fairytales of which you speak.

Clover: Weeping over the steering wheel to a shitty Fray song?  This isn't everyone's afternoon ritual?

BWP: Fact: I have actually done that.  Fact: It was yesterday.  This message will self-destruct.  Just like me!

Clover: If we were rappers we could spit "Ima self-destruct like a message" and that would sound more bad ass/less cry for help-ish.

BWP: I say we do it.  It will be number one on itunes.

When I get that feeling, I want Textual Healing.

Don’t let anyone fool you; the Great American Pastime isn’t baseball. It’s booze.

It’s no secret that some of the greatest pieces of literature were penned after the writer drank a generous amount of "firewater". Just take Bukowski, Poe, and Hemingway, and that's only naming a few. I mean, you can’t possibly tell me that you think Macbeth was written while Shakespeare was stone-cold sober, can you? Please.

However, we now live in a world where wit is often limited to 140 characters or less. Text messaging is an integral part of our lives and, while most of us have lost the urge to handwrite ten page letters, we still haven’t shaken the overwhelming desire to connect with those near and dear to us through the written word.

This is where drunk texting comes in.

You’re walking home from the bar, inebriated and alone, when suddenly you have an epiphany about why Donald Duck never wore pants. But who can you tell? Who, I ask you?? You pull out your cell phone and type out a text message to a friend you know will understand. Sure, you use too many exclamation points and spell a few things incorrectly. Never mind. All that matters is that your Very Important Thought was not lost on the desolate city streets at 4 in the morning, to be forgotten by the time you rouse from your drunken slumber the following afternoon.

When we first began e-mailing each other a few months back, we hit it off instantly. Bonding over a mutual love for happy hour, funny Jewish guys, and antiquated jargon, it wasn’t long before we exchanged numbers and started text messaging on a consistent basis. As a result of our shared appreciation for The Booze, many of our text messages were scribed while under the influence of a few glasses of wine or occasionally an entire pitcher of margaritas. (Kidding. Maybe.)

Throw a few other bloggers in the mix and suddenly every night we were makin' it rain like Lil Wayne at a strip club. We decided it was high time to share these precious little gems with the world. They got so lonely by themselves in the inbox. And there's no need to have a lonely inbox when you've got textual healing.

And so this blog was born.

Charmingly,

BWP and Clover