Jane: yo wz up
Ted: nt mch wut up witchu?
Jane: kickn it gettn it poppin whtchu kno boutt thttt ?!
Ted: roflmao

Let's stop here. Not for the obvious—but for logistics. How is it that one might roll on the floor and laugh their ass off while simultaneously typing “ROFLMAO”? Second, how ass-less can one be? It stands to reason that there would at least need to be a buffer between asses being laughed off to allow for a new one to flourish.

Ted: cme ovr
Jane: yeaaaaahhhhh babyy

In addition to liquidating the English language to a series of sputters and blips, it now appears to be somewhat cool and hip-hop-y to add an extra letter or three onto the end of words. This screams, “I'll follow a trend no matter how stupidd!”

Jane: i wuld bt im grnded
Ted: lololololololol for wuttt?

“wuld.” It's an interesting choice to keep the one totally silent letter. And, Ted, “laugh out loud out loud out loud out loud out loud out loud” makes zero sense.

Jane: rprt cd 2day
Ted: dam grrrll!!! tht sux.
Jane: yea flnkd englsh 101 fml 

Shocking.

When I was five, I remember standing in front of the refrigerator repeating the word "bitch" over and over in a sing-songy sort of way. My mom couldn't really be mad—it was cute. She just let me go on for a minute, then gently advised that I find another song to sing. I didn't know what "bitch" meant—or where I even heard it—I guess I just liked the way it sounded. Not long ago, I was driving and had just checked my bank statement and noticed there was an overdraft fee. "F*ck! Those motherf*ckers!..." As I continued in my eloquence, I looked in the rearview and noticed my sweet dog, Violetta, cringing in the back seat, apparently assuming that my anti-banking tirade was directed towards her. "No, sweetheart, I'm not mad at you." (as if she understands me.) My initial thought was that it was the tonality of my voice—not the word itself—that effected her. So Tessa and I experimented with saying the F word in various happy tones, including the beloved "doggy voice." Still she cowered at the word every time. (Though a little less sans the angry emotion.) This reminded me of Dr. Emoto's work with water crystals. He demonstrates the power of words before and after chanting (or even simply writing) various phrases on water bottles. He then freezes them and photographs the subsequent crystals. It really makes one give a second thought to the power of words and projection. Perhaps I was drawn to the word "bitch" way back when because I knew that it was "wrong," and it appealed to my rebellious nature. I knew it was wrong because, just like Violetta, I was innocent then—and I believe that the more innocent we are, the more perceptive we are to the true nature and energy of things.