Y is for YMNK, #AtoZChallenge

Whew…almost there — only one day left of the A to Z Challenge! Today’s textspeak isn’t made up by me, nor does it have curse words in it. Imagine that, a legit, clean texting acronym! Don’t worry, though, some of the acronyms I passed up aren’t clean, and you can see them at the bottom.

Y isn’t for YOLO, because I’m not a douchebag*. Instead, Y is for —

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  • That I’ve edited a couple of books.
  • That I have four tattoos and would like to have a Shakespeare themed half sleeve on my left arm.
  • That we actually call Baby Girl “Baby Girl” a lot in real life. She hasn’t said her real name yet, but she refers to herself as Baby, Baby Girl, or My Baby.
  • That I hate Seinfeld.
  • That I don’t like animals. I’ll all about their rights and shit, but keep them away from me.
  • That I think The Office is the best sitcom ever. I will fight you to the death if you suggest otherwise. The first few seasons of Parks and Recreation are a close second.
  • That I have mad math skillz. I’m all Good Will Hunting when you need taxes or tips calculated. (Those count as mad math skillz, right?)
  • That I have two left feet. I’m one of the clumsiest mofos you’ll ever meet.
  • That — on the clumsy note — I don’t dance. At all. I hate it. I hated having to do it a couple times at my wedding, and it still makes me cringe thinking about it 10 years later.
  • That I think yellow cake sucks. The batter will do, though.

Okay, maybe you did know some of that stuff since I’ve made a million or so posts, but maybe a couple things are new to you.

*It’s a joke, so please don’t get all offended with “But I use YOLO and I’m not a douchebag, YB!”

Alternative meaning: None.

Textspeak I passed up: YMMV (your mileage may vary), YBF (you’ve been fucked), YAOTM (yet another off topic message), YBS (you’ll be sorry), YCMTSU (you can’t make this shit up), YKWIM (you know what I mean), YB (you bitch), and YOLO (you only live once).

Care to share a YMNK tidbit about yourself?


W is for Webtrovert, #AtoZChallenge

Today’s textspeak is one of my favorites so far (and likely will be my favorite overall, since we’re close to the end and all).

Are you much more outgoing online than you are in real life? If so, you might be a:

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Some people are people persons. They’re charming, outgoing, and generally thrive on being around other people. I am not one of those people. But maybe you wouldn’t know that if you only know me from my amazeballs online personality. Well, unless you’ve read one of the 164 posts where I mentioned being introverted and having the social anxiety. I am webtroverted to the nth degree.

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The Internet is awesome for introverts, isn’t it? We can be in complete control of our social stuff without having to put ourselves out there more than we are comfortable with or face the judgment that comes with diligently checking stuff on the phone and ignoring people.

Long live webtroversion.

Alternative meaning: None.

Textspeak I passed up: WTF (what the fuck), WITW (what in the world), WTG (way to go), WYD (what you doing).

Are you webtroverted?

R, S, and T are for RST, #AtoZChallenge

Have you ever texted someone while taking a crap? Use this if you want to go all TMI (too much information) on the person you’re texting.

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Okay, so that acronym actually is made up. I couldn’t believe it, either — no one has claimed Really Smelly Turd on Urban Dictionary yet, so I’ll add going over there to make a submission to the top of my priority list after I finish with this post.

So, why is RST for Really Smelly Turd? Because this post is an RST. More specifically, I’m three days behind in blogging/the A to Z Challenge, and I have no intentions of catching up on three different textspeak posts for reasons. Since I’m kinda cheating and making up acronyms for the sake of cheating, this post is especially a RST. Or something like that.

Speaking of turds, here’s one you can use when texting about your RSTs:


Did anyone else think this was chocolate soft serve ice cream at first? My dad still doesn’t know this is supposed to be poop and puts it at the end of half of the texts he sends, which makes me giggle because I’m mature and shit. My husband thought it was Mr. Hankey. (Fun fact: in 9th grade, I had a t-shirt that had Mr. Hankey on it that said “Hidey-Ho!”…I have a picture of me all cool as hell with it tucked in while wearing a belt. Sigh.)


The reason I’m taking the lazy way out is because the past few days have been difficult, tiresome, and any other adjective that works for complaining.

Guess who’s home a stomach bug decided to show up in again? Yep, Baby Girl and I were both victim to more shit Little Man has brought home. This time around, Sam was spared at least. Little Man still hasn’t gotten sick from the bugs he’s brought in. I hope he doesn’t, of course, but I may have to start hosing him down with bleach before he comes in the house. I won’t go into all the details, but RST definitely applies to the bug, as does RSV (not the vaccine). There has been some other not-so-fun health stuff that has also factored into (all the complain words) of the last few days, but it will take more words than “stomach bug,” so I’ll write about that later.

On the bright side, I did get to binge watch The People vs. OJ Simpson online. I remember watching the verdict in class when I was in sixth grade. Why the teacher thought a bunch of 11 and 12 year olds needed to see this, I don’t know, but we did. I never paid much attention to the OJ stuff beyond knowing what the verdict was, but I thought the mini-series was really interesting. If you’ve got 10 hours to spare, it’s not a bad way to spend it. If you don’t have 10 hours to spare and still want to watch it, visit with LM for a few minutes and then you’ll have 10+ hours to spend binge watching whatever you want.

Also on the bright side, Baby Girl required to be held most of the day yesterday. She and I slept a lot and I got tons of snuggles that I don’t get while she’s being her typical wild-as-fuck self.

And thus concludes the RST post.

Alternative meaning: resolved sexual tension.

Textspeak I passed up: RUSRS (are you serious), STFU (shut the fuck up), SFB (shit for brains), TTYL (talk to you later), and TBH (to be honesty).


Q is for QTFD

Once again, I thought I was bringing you an Anxious Mom Original Acronym, but Urban Dictionary says no. Apparently this textspeak was created 6 years ago, so I’m not even a little late to the party, but over half a decade late. Sigh.

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If you’ve ever felt like you need a more polite way to tell people to STFU, then QTFD is the way to go.

People/things that need to QTFD:

The kids. One of the many things parenting books don’t prepare you for is how fucking loud kids are. Sure, most of us have been around kids before pre-parenthood, maybe even taught or babysat them, gotten annoyed by them in restaurants, but until you have your own, it’s hard to understand just how damn noisy they can be. (Unless you teach a bunch of toddlers, in which case, bless your heart.) And that noise is constant, unless they’re doing things they shouldn’t be doing, like Baby Girl when she did this:

Screen Shot 2016-04-21 at 12.20.51 AMMy brain. Those of y’all with an anxiety disorder know what I’m talking about. That thing is going full blast all the time about one thing or another, and about the only way to make it QTFD most of the time is to pop a pill or have some booze.


This about sums it up.

People in restaurants. It’s like people think that everyone in the restaurant needs to hear their conversation or something. I might not be able to hear what Sam is telling me about whatever happened at work, but I sure as hell can hear that the lady two tables down thinks her hairdresser is a total bitch and the table of college girls halfway across the restaurant squealing about how drunk they are gonna get over the weekend.

People who insist on shoving their idiotic opinions down everyone’s throats. Actually, no, QTFD is too gentle, so let’s go back to STFU. Why, yes, I have been annoyed at much of the political commentary on Facebook lately. 😉

Alternative meanings: None.

Textspeak I passed up: QYB (quit your bitching) and QT (cutie).

Who would you like to tell to QTFD?


P is for PW, #AtoZChallenge

Yes, I’m a day late again. Better late than never, though, amirite? Today’s (or yesterday’s) textspeak is one of my pet peeves.

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Passwords are one of the banes of my existence. As are PIN numbers (yeah, that’s redundant, but I just can’t do PIN), but at least those are only 4 to 6 digits. I long for the good ol’ days, when a password only had to be 7 letters long and there were no requirements to capitalize anything or add numbers. Those passwords were easy to remember. Passwords now? Not so much.


I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve forgotten passwords to this WordPress account. I’ve cycled through all of my old school passwords (plus numbers), family members, and am now in new password territory. I’ve lost Twitter passwords, Gmail passwords, and passwords for pretty much every online store (which maybe isn’t the worst thing).

Before you ask, I do click the “Save Password” option when prompted on Chrome, but unfortunately, that doesn’t count for shit when I need to log on to something on my phone. After combing through the mixed up files in my brain, I either get locked out or give up and have to move on to creating something new. Many curse words are used when this happens, much to Sam’s amusement. (Sidenote: why does it seem like Sam is always endlessly amused with anything that frustrates me? Hmph.) Also, before you ask, I’m way too paranoid to write down a list of my passwords anymore. I did that once on an old Yahoo account, much to my husband’s horror when he watched me pull up the note containing all of the log-in info for everything from our bank account to my Facebook account (although, maybe he was less horrified about Facebook). And y’all know how secure Yahoo is. Yikes.

So, no, I am not a fan of the passwords. Except for when someone lets me access ESPN on their Dish account, anyway. (Finding someone you can mooch off of is rule number one of Cutting the Cable.)

Alternative meanings: p**** whipped (one of the few times you’ll see me censor a curse word).

Textspeak I passed up: PBIAB (payback is a bitch), PITA (pain in the ass), PM (personal or private message), POS (piece of shit), and PTL (praise the lord).