Sweet mother of god! I am seriously fucked? Why you ask, well allow me to extrapolate. I am on my way to the fair city of Glasgow, the home of the incomprehensible Scots. Now, it is my first time to this city in a work capacity. I am well aware from past experience that the accented English with which they speak can be some what difficult to understand to their own country men, much less a bonny American lass like myself. So, I hit upon a plan with which to circumvent the necessity to have to talk to them on the phone, I was going to implement a texting plan! Yes, I was going to suspend my own rule in the face of the Incomprehensible Glaswegians and text, that was until I received this beauty: Hey am looking a women themara 9am to 9pm can u help me and how much? My hopes were soon dashed to the rocks. Can I help him? Probably not with the subsequent problem of enunciation, syntax, and spelling he is suffering from. Do, I wish to spend 12 hours with someone who texts the way he speaks? No, not really. This I am sure will be a great weekend. Where is Wild Heather when I need her?