Ah, late-night texts.
Those brilliant but brief dispatches from wherever you are, desperately seeking something—a meet-up
spot, more drinks, something more intimate…
They can be sources of pleasure—or unintentional hilarity. (Or both.) And therein lies the genius of
the most entertaining website we've come across since, well,
, accepting messages now.
In short, readers send last night's drunken exchanges to firstname.lastname@example.org
, and the site posts it, blog-style,
along with an area code. And that's it.
Suddenly, your tiny masterpieces of pith and wit ("Do you
think they could tell I was high on that conf call?") can live on in eternal infamy, next to epic tales of
hangovers, waking up in bathtubs and the occasional Chewbacca mask.
Of course, you don't have to participate—you could easily lose an afternoon scrolling through the
hundreds of exchanges the site has collected so far. ("I'm half single." "Please tell me it's the bottom
half"; "Incredible sex, Maddow, more sex, spoon, sex again.") It's the best combination of the Internet and
voyeurism since Al Gore invented the damn thing in the first place.
Now, where did we put our pants…
Texts From Last Night