Lanetta Don’t Like LOL or GROPIN!

Dear Lanetta,

I consider myself  fairly intelligent and have the diplomas to prove it, but I am having an extremely hard time keeping up with modern technology. Sadly, I just learned how to text and I am still not sure what twittering means. How can it be that a college grad like me can be so far behind the times?


Dear Techplexed,

For starters, how many times are you gonna have to spout off to Lanetta about how smart  you are? I got two words for you…SHUT UP!

If you was so smart, then you’d know that going to some fancy schmancy college insteetushun don’t make your brain any better. Hell, I was insteetushunalized once dew to a misunderstanding reegardin two policemen and an ice pick and all my brain got was a jump start from some  hi-tek medikal jumper cables. Lanetta still can’t remember which channel her stories comes on…so you see TP…insteetushans don’t make you smarter…they just make Lanetta throw her Panema City Beech ashtray at the TV screen.

Now lets talk this twitter mess. I’m so dang tired of hear’in about twitter’n and text’n and eye-m’n that I could Vomix….and since you’ve already made Lanetta have to git up and walk to the fridge to reetreeve another beer , let me  take this opportuneety to say to all you dumb people who computer mail me…STOP BEING STUPID AND STOP TALK’N IN CODE!  What the hell does this LOL OR LMAO OR ROFLMAO or BRB o BFF nonsense mean? Lanetta don’t like jewlrie which means I left my DEECODER RING inside the crackerjax box under my Lazee-Boy.

If you got somethin to say to me then just SAY IT! AND if you can’t talk usin real words then save the jibberish for some one who gives “ARA”…You figure it out smartie pants!

And about this sextin mess. Lawd I’d thought I’d heard it all, but now people are talk’n trashy through there telephones. If you have to spell nasty words and send pitchers of your dirty, ugly self through the telephone, then I guess you aint got enough to do. Perhaps its time you took up a trade or somethin.

I even hear now that got some telephone applikation out there called  Groovin or Groan’in or Gropin…somethin that starts with a G…anyhow, it ain’t nothin more then Gay GPS. Lanetta don’t lie and I don’t make this stuff up. I got a cousin (the flower arrangerer) who once told me over dinner in the Mexy-Can restrawnt, that accordin to his sale phone, there was 9 men in the very same room wantin to meet up with him later.  Well I don’t have to tell you, that Lanetta didn’t stick around long enough for that second baskit of chips and salser to hit the table. I got enuff friends!

Techplexed…I think its time you put the telephone in the drawer and get your life right with MA BELL. Learn the art of letter writin and you won’t have to worry about twitter’n, text’n, sextin or how many dirty words you can think up durin one phone call.

Best of all you, can avoid all the Grop’in goin on in the middle of the Mexy-can Restrawnt and enjoy your chips and salser instead!

Be Blessed,








4 thoughts on “Lanetta Don’t Like LOL or GROPIN!

  1. Well of course you have LaDoll. Try looking under the Magnavox and while yer down there, see if you can find Lanetta’s SEE ROCK CITY shot glass. I’m tired of using the Lord’s Supper plastic cup I had to swipe from the local Baptist church.

    That is the only reason I suffered through that sermon titled “Ask Not What the Lord Can Do for You, but What Can You Do for The Lord”. I still can’t find Ecclesiastes in the bible. Who the heck was Ecclesiastes anyway. That is one affikted name. Bet he got his head slammed in a locker once or twice at Jeyrusalim High.

    And since we are talkin afflikted names, what is this LaDoll mess about? It conjurs up things I don’t wanna have to deal with. STOP BEIN STUPID and get a name that don’t disturb Lanetta!

    Be Blessed,


    • I will have you know that LeDoll is a fine Christian name…I was named after my Grandma’s sister, the one who was married to Uncle Pedlo. I’m still using the See Rock City glass to take my pills at night but I’ll trade you that real nice red candle, with that plastic lace on the glass that you tucked into your knee sock and snuck out of Papa Quidos Pizzeteria that time for my ash tray from PC. My Daddy gave me that.

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