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A Practical Guide To Sexting (For Men Over 30)

Well, the media is ablaze with stories about a new teen phenomenon known as “sexting.” Apparently, kids today are using their cell phones to take sexy pictures of themselves and then sending them to friends--sometimes with sexy text messages. I have to confess, as someone who went to high school in the 90s, I was a little taken aback by today’s technologically advanced and sexually retarded teens. But as I read these sexting stories (over and over again) I kept thinking one thing: Why just sassy teens? Surely, grown-ups can get on this sexting bandwagon.

So for the last month, I’ve been learning all I can about sexting from today’s youth in the hopes of applying what I call my “Sexting Technique”™ to every aspect of life. I couldn’t have done it without the help of my young and nubile Facebook friends who were a huge help. For example, did you know that you don’t need to type the word “breasts” or even “boobs” because you can substitute “(.)(.)” Isn’t that sexy? Sure it is, and the world of sexting is filled with fun and wonderful surprises just like that!

But for those of you brave enough, sexting offers more than mere graphic, written and photographic titillation. And it doesn’t have to be limited to high school buddies or significant others, either. As I will show you, there is hardly an interaction in our daily lives that could not be made better with the addition of sexting.

JOB INTERVIEWS

In today’s economy, job applicants need every advantage they can get to secure a job. That means learning everything you can about your interviewer: his experiences with the company, his accomplishments and, of course, his cell phone number. An applicant serious about securing a job through my Sexting Technique™ will do whatever necessary--including going through the interviewer’s old discarded billing statements--to get this vital information. Only then can you have experiences such as these:

INTERVIEWER

So I see you’ve freelanced at Cracked.com for almost three years. Tell me, what part of that qualifies you to work here at Union Carbide?

GLADSTONE

Well, hmm… I wrote an article about Jessica Simpson being fat that got a lot of Diggs.

INTERVIEWER

Yeah, that’s not really what we’re looking for in an industrial chemist. I’m sorry, I just-

Interviewer’s cell phone vibrates

INTERVIEWER

Excuse me, I’m expecting a call from the EPA. Hello? Oh, it’s not a phone call. It’s just a text. That’s odd.

GLADSTONE

What is?

INTERVIEWER

Oh nothing. Just a weird emoticon type thing from some unknown caller.

GLADSTONE

Is it breasts?

INTERVIEWER

Excuse me?

GLADSTONE

The text. Is it breasts? I bet it’s breasts, isn’t it?

Interviewer looks at cell phone.

INTERVIEWER

Well, it’s an open paren, period, closed paren, and then the series of symbols is repeated again. Oh hey! I guess that does look like breasts. Neat… But how did you know that?

GLADSTONE

Perhaps, I could answer you best in this way….

Gladstone pushes a few buttons on his cell phone. Interviewer’s cell phone vibrates.

INTERVIEWER

Why did you just forward me a picture of a dude in a shower? Wait. Is that you? And if so, you might want to consider waxing….

GLADSTONE

(coyly)

I don’t know. Is it me? It could be….

INTERVIEWER

You realize I’m not gay, right? And even if I were, what you’re doing is wildly inappropriate.

GLADSTONE

Sir, I assure you. I’m not gay either. But that’s how serious I am about working here at Union Carbide.

INTERVIEWER

So serious that you’d pretend to be gay to straight man in a way that is unacceptable regardless of sexual orientation?

GLADSTONE

That’s one way to say it. Here’s another.

Gladstone sexts furiously on his cell. Interviewer’s phone vibrates again.

INTERVIEWER

(reading)

U R Hawt? What does that even mean?

GLADSTONE

It’s text-speak or sext-speak. All the kids are doing it, old timer! So do I get the job?

INTERVIEWER

Mr. Gladstone, I want you to listen closely. I’m going to do two things: First I’m going to drop my phone into the vat of hydrochloric acid we keep in Sector C. And then, I’m going to call security.

GLADSTONE

Security? I would think my job orientation would start with Human Resources?

INTERVIEWER

I didn’t offer you the job.

GLADSTONE

OK. Not yet. But call me. I know you have the number. . .

Gladstone texts. Interviewer’s phone buzzes.

INTERVIEWER

(reading text)

A semi colon followed by a closed parenthetical? You’re standing right there. Why didn’t you just wink at me for real?!

GLADSTONE

Would you like me to wink at you, sir? Is that what you’re saying? Sssh. Don’t answer. I’ll go. I’ll wait for your offer… by text message.

ORDERING AT McDONALD'S

Ever notice how hard it is to get good service at a McDonald's drive-thru? To the minimum wage employee inside, you’re just another faceless customer, soliciting the fast food conglomerate’s pre-molded culinary wares. A cold impersonal experience. But it doesn’t have to be. After all, a drive-thru menu is actually a lot like a cell phone! I mean, it has a camera, a microphone for talking and a speaker for listening. And when Apple unrolls its Big Mac application in 2010, there will hardly be any difference between the devices at all. So why not apply my Sexting Technique™ to your advantage?

EMPLOYEE

Welcome to McDonald's. May I take your order?

GLADSTONE

Can you see me?

EMPLOYEE

What?

GLADSTONE

Can you see me?

EMPLOYEE

Yes?

GLADSTONE

Good then let me open my car door and ask you a question: What kind of pants am I wearing?

EMPLOYEE

What kind of pants? I don’t- oh, dear God! You’re not wearing pants.

GLADSTONE

That’s right, baby. Why don’t you take off that headset and come supersize me?

EMPLOYEE

Please sir, I’ll be forced to get my manager.

GLADSTONE

Oh, no can do, baby. I want you all to myself… unless--how sexist of me--is your manager… a lady?

EMPLOYEE

Please just order something, sir. You must see something you want.

GLADSTONE

Oh, I do. What’s your cell phone number?

EMPLOYEE

Look, if I just give you a Big Mac, will you please go away?

GLADSTONE

I think you’ve already given me a Big Mac, if you know what I mean.

EMPLOYEE

Ugh. Gross.

GLADSTONE

I mean my penis.

EMPLOYEE

I know what you mean. Please, just drive up, take your free food and get out of here.

big-mac

AT CONFESSION

If you’re anything like me, you’re surely going to Hell. Yes, fire and brimstone await you for a lifetime of sins all of which have only increased exponentially in this technological age. That’s why the need for Catholicism and its “get out of eternal damnation free” cards are more important than ever. But as about half the congregants in those confessionals are likely owning up to sins they committed online--from illegal downloads, to eBay scams, to harassing old flames on Facebook even after being defriended--it occurred to me that the confessional could use a 21st century update. That’s right, you’re way ahead of me: sexting!

GLADSTONE

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s been forever since my last confession.

PRIEST

Why is that my son?

GLADSTONE

I’m not a Catholic.

PRIEST

I see. Well, would you like a personal relationship with Jesus?

GLADSTONE

I would, but I don’t have his cell.

Priest’s cell vibrates.

PRIEST

I’m sorry, son. I forgot to shut off my phone

GLADSTONE

No, that’s OK, Father. Please. Answer it.

PRIEST

No, now is not the time.

GLADSTONE

It’s from me. I’m shy. Please read it.

PRIEST

Oh very well. (reading) “I’ve been a naughty boy?”

GLADSTONE

Very.

PRIEST

How, my son?

Priest’s cell vibrates.

PRIEST

Again with the text? Very well. (looks at cell) Why did you just send me a picture of a man in a shower? Wait. Is that you? And if so, you might want to consider waxing….

GLADSTONE

I think I’m addicted to sexting, Father. Ya see, sexting is…

PRIEST

I know what sexting is, my son. And no good can come from it.

GLADSTONE

Well, I did just get a free Big Mac on the way over here so…

PRIEST

What do you say in your sexts?

GLADSTONE

Well sometimes, I do sexts like this:

Priest’s phone buzzes

PRIEST

The boobs graphic? That’s not really a sext. That’s… well that’s just a retarded emoticon. Are you sure you really know what you’re doing?

GLADSTONE

Hey, how do you know so much about sexting? Aren’t you supposed to be a priest?

PRIEST

Um, they had a course... at seminary.

GLADSTONE

You sext, don’t you!

PRIEST

I do not. Stop this nonsense or-

GLADSTONE

Or what? You’ll take me to the rectory?

PRIEST

That’s kind of a long way to go for a joke, don’t you think?

GLADSTONE

Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Father. I’m kind of lost here.

PRIEST

How so?

GLADSTONE

This whole sext column seemed like a good idea, at first, and now well, I don’t really have an ending.

PRIEST

Yeah, most Internet columns are like that. Many skits too.

GLADSTONE

Yeah.

PRIEST

Wanna make a joke about me being a pedophile?

GLADSTONE

Nah. Too easy. Besides, you seem like a nice enough priest. I mean, for a fictional character.

PRIEST

Thanks. I try.

GLADSTONE

I should probably just do some penance or something.

PRIEST

For the sexting?

GLADSTONE

No. For starting a column I couldn’t finish.

PRIEST

OK, tell you what. For penance, why don’t you send me the other half of that shower pic and we’ll call it a day?

GLADSTONE

I thought we agreed that joke’s too easy.

PRIEST

It is, but you’re in a bind, and being compassionate is part of my job.

GLADSTONE

Gee thanks, Father!

PRIEST

Besides, you didn’t make the joke. I did.

GLADSTONE

Well, yeah, sorta, but…

PRIEST

Don’t sweat it, Gladstone. It’s just the Internet.

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Learn more about Gladstone at Kafka Lives in Maine or stalk him on Facebook.


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