The following is offered for your consideration, without further comment.
A voicemail received on my cell phone from a blocked number:
Hey, I’m looking for a Ronald? And if I’ve found you, I just wanted to let you know that I found out some disturbing news. And, um, you need to tell the little bitch that yer livin’ with that she better leave my man alone. Because I just found out they’re seeing each other? And I don’t fuckin’ like it. Let me catch her ass out somewhere, she’s mine.
The other night in bed, after yet another tearful discussion of the mess our lives have become:
Me: I just don’t even know why you’re still here. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?
Otto: Well… this is where all my stuff is.
Otto: OW! Hey!
Otto: Um. I love you?
Me: Jerk.
Otto: What??
Me: I said I love you, too.
No words, just acronyms: WTF.
And I’m happy to know that someone else responds to intimate sarcasm with physical brutality and expresses love through name calling. My husband and I had an eerily similar interaction a few days ago.
Sending love.
That sounds like a conversation my husband and I have- and our crappy stuff is much less crappy, more annoying. It’s good that they make us giggle and let us punch them in the arm, isn’t it?
How many phones do you think she left that message on? I’m picturing people all over Georgia with that WTF? look on their faces after listening to their voice-mail. Well, except for Ronald, who probably has a very different look on his face after getting that message.
Love.
And don’t you love those random messages? My husband got a text the other day that made NO sense. We have no idea who it was from.
Otto is awesome. That is all.
I got a text message the other day for Cara (not my name) to bring the wedding dress to the church by 4p. I did not answer, so I hope all was well, because, gee, for something important like that, shouldn’t you have the correct NUMBER!?!?! Things like this make my eye twitch.
We have a (wedding shower gift) frame by our bed that we use like a dry erase board. It says, “I Love You becasue…”, with the idea that we fill in the blank, changing the message daily and reminding each other why we got married in the first place. Right now it says, “I love you because you are good at ping pong.” Its the little things, y’know?
Poor Ronald! I don’t see why the sender isn’t pissed at “her man” though. It takes two to tango.
Love the dialog with Otto! I hope to find someone to have that with someday!
Giggle!!
That Otto -KEEPER!!!
You married a keeper. So did Otto.
Hee. Yup, stuff, keeping it where it belongs is what really matters in the end.
Otto, and I’m about to go full-frontal nerd on you here so brace yourself, is a frood who really knows where his towel is.
and I’m guessing that before Otto got his new car, he hitch-hiked everywhere (but only if I got Megan’s reference right).
Other than that, your dialogue sounds good to me and maybe no studio would buy the script but couples in audiences everywhere would look at each other and say “how do they know ?”.
Love the voice mail message.
Reminds me of a conversation my husband and I had…”do you love me?” “Yes.” “Are you sure?” “Pretty sure.” Good times screwing with vulnerable people when they are fragile.
Great. So now we also have to worry about Ronald not knowing that his girlfriend is cheating on him.
True love when he takes you out for sushi (or bait as it has been referred to) on your birthday. And random messages on your voicemail – well why not? Gives you something else to talk about for awhile.
If they call back you could tell them they’ve reached the Ronald MacDonald household, and you’re too busy dealing with the Hamburglar to worry about their problems.
“looking for a Ronald” makes it sound as if any Ronald would do.
Ah, twue wuv and mawwiage. (That picture of your marriage looks an awful lot like mine. “Why do you still even love me?” “I’m married to you.” …did that answer the question, really? ;~) )
We used to get random calls from an older gentleman who was trying to reach his voicemail. His kids had programmed our number into his phone for his voicemail, so we heard from him multiple times a day, and he always left a message that he wanted his voicemail, please. One day I finally answered it and let him know that he wasn’t reaching HIS voicemail; he was reaching me and then mine when I didn’t answer. (My voicemail msg has my name on it, so…it shouldn’t have been hard to figure out anyway.) He insisted that I had his voicemail, because that was the number his kids programmed in for it. I never answered again, even though he called regularly for a long time. Poor guy.
Awe-some!
I think I may be related to Otto, because that sounds like one of our family conversations.
That Otto is so funny! The phone message? Not so much.
I am always reminding my husband that when I complain about something or stub my toe or something the only correct answer is a sweetly said, “Poor baby”. We’ve been married 13 years, and I still have to remind him.
Sooooo, I can assume Otto’s real name is NOT Ronald. Because the title and the first part had me seriously concerned for a moment!
Next time you have a hospital battle to fight, any chance you could call that number back and tell the person that Ronald is at the hospital? Except that it’s a blocked number. I bet you’d get some results though.
I’m guessing Ronald didn’t get the message and that Bitch better have eyes behind her head in case her ass is out somewhere… you know…
*sigh*
LOVE… is why he’s still there. What’s that corny saying?… love is all you need…and it’s the truth of truths, don’t you know.
Something someone said to me once…. “make sure you LET him love you.”. And so I finally did.
Years ago when I lived in FL someone came to my house looking for his girlfriend, convinced she was hiding at my house at 2 am… Screaming, swearing woke up the whole neighborhood…
Otto, btw, rocks…
Right on, Mir, it’s what makes you pretty. Otto sees that too.
Aaaawww, that reminds me of a story told by one of my online friends: early in the marriage, there was some sort of upset, and she decided to go home to her folks. She went into the bedroom, to pack a bag, he followed and started packing his bag.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I’m coming with you’, he answered.
Some guys you gotta keep.
God bless, Christine
Love those random calls and texts. I got one from some guy saying to leave his woman alone once. My favorites are the ones my husband gets. Even when he answers with name and rank, and his voicemail has the same, people still leave messages for the wrong person.
]
I texted my husband asking him to be my date for a very important event. I was annoyed when 3 hours later he hadn’t responded, so I went to send a less nice follow up and realized I had texted my neighbor I had just met instead. Hey neighbor, we’re both happily married, want to screw that up? At least both my husband and the neighbor thought it was funny (& thank goodness I am too old to sext!).
That second one sounds just like me & hubby. :)
Okay, with the hope that it makes you laugh.
In the middle of Christmas dinner last year, my sister’s cell phone beeps with an incoming message. Thinking it might be her daughter in law calling from Japan, she opened the message and gasped out loud.
and then laughed.
Some moron has snapped a pic of his celebratory pecker, with poorly placed ribbon, and send the image to the wrong cell phone #.
She texted back that he should make sure his present is opened by the right person lest he get arrested for pornography.
I bet his celebration deflated pretty damn quick.