This is a wrong number text that a friend of mine received today, and It. Is. Fucking. Aaaaaaamaaaaaazing:
WHATS GOOD THIS IS FAT DADDY. YOU WANTED ME TO GET AT YOU.
Part of what makes this as funny as it is is the person who received it. See, you need to know more about my friend who got this text in order to fully appreciate how hilarious it is.
She's a lesbian in her early 50's with several advanced degrees who does triathlons. She wakes up at 5:00 a.m. to engage in psychotic exercise regimens with names like "INSANITY 880x" and "BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS BOOT CAMP," and she walks around with water bottles with the names of these regimens emblazoned on them for all the world to see.
So I feel like she is THE LAST person on earth to have given anyone named "Fat Daddy" her number, much less have wanted or encouraged Fat Daddy to "get at her" or even suggested that getting at her was a remote possibility.
I wish I had gotten this instead, because my friend (I am sure) just politely said "sorry, wrong number," whereas I would have spooled this out to its ultimate conclusion, taking screenshots along the way and cackling uproariously as I posted them to my blog.
I probably would have replied with "Heeeey Boo! Yeah, I wanted you to get at me. Whatchoo thinking?" and just taken it from there and seen where it all went. Because that's just the kind of person I am. The kind of person who says "YES" to life, and expresses that philosophy by engaging in wrong-number texting for shits n' giggles.
So Fat Daddy, if you're reading this, wherever you are, HIT MY PHONE UP K?!