LOL, texts straight-faced woman

A WOMAN who has not cracked a smile at any point during a text exchange has nonetheless claimed that she is ‘laughing out loud’. 

Joanna Kramer remained stone-faced while texting ‘haha’, ‘lol’ ‘rofl’ and the crying laughing emoji in a WhatsApp chat with her friend Charlotte, to be polite.

She said: “A dog falling off a skateboard? Do you think I need this shit? I’ve got two kids and a full-time job. But you can’t text nothing, can you?

“But then it’s immediately followed by a squirrel riding a dog, which I couldn’t even be arsed to watch so I text ‘haha’ followed by three monkeys with their hands over their eyes, in case ‘haha’ alone felt sarcastic.

“If I want to look at videos of squirrels or dogs or whatever, there’s an entire internet full of this bullshit. I don’t need it from friends. Nor do I especially want to encourage it.

“Then she sends a cat in a T-shirt playing the piano. I texted back, with a face like a slapped arse: ‘LOOOOL LMAO SO FUNNY HYSTERICAL OHMYGOD CAN’T BREATHE FROM LAUGHING HAHAHA!!!!’ and ten smiling poop emojis. That should shut her up.”

Charlotte Phelps said: “I don’t even look at all these shite videos I forward, but Jo loves them.”

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'I am a successful businessman staying in a five-star hotel, and I'm f**king having Coco Pops for breakfast'

WHEN staying alone in a hotel, a man powering through a five-figure deal must seize the opportunity for the breakfast of champions. Coco Pops. 

The waitress approaches, ready to provide to me the full English. Wondering whether to offer my sophisticated self smoked salmon. Judging whether I’ll take my avocado smashed.

I wave her away. I will breakfast on none of those. I am going to have a bowl of Coco Pops, with full cream milk. Why? Because here in this hotel restaurant I am a powerful man with no one to answer to.

Even though hundreds of people work for me, all of whom need my written permission to urinate, I cannot eat Coco Pops at home. I am told the children would try to follow my example.

But here in this hotel, this former country house which must have hosted 50 lavish weddings this summer alone, facing this luxury buffet. I can do what I bloody well like. Maybe I’ll have two bowls.

At my business dinner last night I ordered the sea bass. For lunch today, closing the deal, I will order sushi. It is only here and now, unmonitored by anyone, that I permit Coco the Monkey to rule my palate.

And then, even though I will no longer be vaguely hungry, I’ll have white toast with loads of Nutella. Don’t look at me like that. I avoid more tax than you pay. I’ve earned this.