So recently a friend of mine was trying to sell two extra tickets he had to a Genesis concert. Now, I will admit, Genesis and sexy Brit Phil Collins had once invisibly touched me...when I was twelve years old, but the magic has worn off a bit since their Su-su-sudio days (did anyone ever figure out what the hell a sudio is by the way?).
I didn't want the tix, but I wanted to help him out, so I texted my ex boyfriend in the hopes that he might want to buy them. Sadly, he had work to do so couldn't go. Now why going to see an over-the-hill eighties band that performed such hits as "Abacab" and "The Carpet Crawlers" does not serve as a legitimate excuse to skip out of work, I don't know. We are in a Land of Confusion indeed.
So the following week, my ex texted me to ask how the concert was. I hadn't actually gone, but decided to have some fun with it, because, well, he is my ex and any chance one has to fuck with one's ex must be exercised at all times. I texted him back, saying, "concert was gr8. Phil invited me backstage! Partied like rock star all nite." To which I got in reply, "Really? What's his poison?" I couldn't believe he had actually bought it. I thought that Phil looked like a whiskey kind of guy, so I answered, "Blue Label. I was drinking Cristal." I mean if I'm going to be fake drinking, I might as well go all out, right?
I didn't get a response for a couple of days, so I decided to take the joke one step further. I emailed my ex a couple of photos from my after-hours craziness with Phil. The first picture (and my personal favorite), with the caption "Me, Phil, and a bottle of Cristal":
Notice how I was able to subtly transpose an image of myself onto another (larger) woman's body, and how convincingly the bottle of Cristal floats in the air.
The second picture I actually had a friend of mine Photoshop. The caption read, "Things got a little out-of-control after polishing off the alcohol...":
I waited giddily for his response. I couldn't wait to read his reaction to believing I had actually been whooping it up with Mr. Collins. Finally, I saw the email I'd been waiting for in my inbox. So what does my brilliant ex respond with?
"I totally thought that "reallivemoms.com" was an advertisement for MILF porn."
Heh?? After a few more email exchanges, I finally figured out that he had skipped my email entirely and responded to a link advertising creating online family photo albums--one of those hotmail ad inserts that shows up at the bottom of email messages sometimes (Make your little one a shining star! Shine on!.
Big bummer. Not only did he not get the joke, but, more disturbingly, he misinterpreted an ad for creating an online baby photo album for cougar porn. The problem with practical jokes is that they only work on people who have a clue. (Not that I'm bitter or anything.) Luckily, I had some Genesis' tunes on my ipod to lift my spirits. It did the trick. I turned the volume as high as it'd go and let The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway rip (did anyone ever figure out what the hell that lamb was doing on Broadway in the first place by the way?)