The 10 Types Of Texts You Get From Your Drug Dealer

We've all been there. It's 4am, the club's just shut, and you've decided to throw an afterparty in your flat. Sure it's only big enough for four of you to comfortably fit in the lounge but the 12 of you'll be alright. There's one thing though: you need drugs and you need them fast.

The thing is, if you want to do that—and you probably do— you're going to need a dealer and you're going to need to text them to get the transaction rolling. This is fine, as most dealers will just wait for you to drop them a "u about?" before they contact you. That's what most dealers do, anyway. There are some, however, who like to shout from the rooftops about their amnesia haze specials, hype up their blueberry kush deals, beam out a sativa-soaked bat signal to their potential customers. That's where Shotta Texts LDN comes into play.

The Instagram account is dedicated to compiling every amazing text anyone in the city's been sent by a deal-hungry dealer. We thought we'd get you ready for the weekend by compiling a few of our favourite Sunday afternoon SOS SMS'.

Here's where it all started, and boy, it started with a bang. The trick here is that the dealer's buried the bad news—being arrested—in some CAPS LOCK FRIENDLY GOOD NEWS ABOUT FAT BAGS and as a result all is right with the world. What's one night of inconvenience when your boy can break out of jail and immediately have access to BUDDY LEMON!!!? Fuck it, you needed a night off anyway.

You never know with this account, but I reckon that our family orientated dude here is the same guy who found himself kipping on concrete a few weeks before. The FAT BAGS have become PROPER BANGING LEMON BIG FAT BAGS so you'd have to imagine he spent his night in the cell working his way through the thesaurus. Which is great news for everyone because the one thing better than FAT BAGS is PROPER BANGING LEMON BIG FAT BAGS. Shame about the family problems though, but let's be honest, we've all used that excuse at least six times to get out of going to the pub haven't we? Shottas are people too, don't forget! #NotAllShottas

Being stoned with a partner can be a lovely experience. You both get all woozy and sleepy and end up falling asleep during a really languorous oral sex session while Burial parps out of someone's Macbook and if you can think of a more perfect embodiment of contemporary sexuality then you've clearly had more sex than I have. This shotta decided to offer his lucky customers a loving gift from the heart. I wish he'd been in my life this year, because I spent Valentine's Day watching an indoor skateboarding competition before drinking six pints in silence and blacking out in an Uber. I could have been getting really, really, really stoned instead!

Now, obviously, smoking lots of weed does funny things to a person. They stop washing; they live mainly on Frazzles and Snapple; they lose any motivation to do anything apart from smoke weed and invariably end up damaging their personal and professional loves. They also, more importantly, lose the ability to keep a train of thought on the same track for more than two minutes. Which is why it's not that surprising that a man who literally only has your phone number so he can sell you drugs decides to try and sell you drugs before talking about Eastenders for a bit. I do find the inclusion of "have a safe and wonderful weekend" incredibly touching and I've stopped thinking about every horrible fucking thing that must happen before someone turns up outside my house in a 206 with twenty quid's worth of shit bushweed and a conspiratorial nod.

There is literally nothing else to be said about this. It is the best text anyone's ever been sent. Even better than the "yes i wud luv 2" my mate Gravy got from his girlfriend when he text her from a Pizza Hut in Norwich when were 16 asking her to marry him.

You know what pays off in this life? Persistence. Persistence, modesty, and 8/10 Moroccan puff hash. Don't do yourself a disservice, mate, come on.

Remember when Tulisa got busted a while back for texting people from newspapers about "green sweets" and "white sweets" and was surprised that her code was quite, quite easy to crack? I think the same might happen to this chap here. Prince Charles' girlfriend is called Camilla, idiot, not Mandy. He's not King Charles yet either. Don't you ever read the papers, mate? This is basic stuff. In fact, I refuse to believe that any actual drug dealer worth their salt, or their Charles for that matter, would use the word "ding" or the hashtah "#24Hours" — this can't be life.

Wonder what he went to see? Panto? An Ibsen play? Something directed by Mark Rylance?

Yes I Have Experienced The Monday Blues In The Past But I Usually Try And Combat It With A Cup Of Coffee And A Cheeky Chocolate Bar And Yes I Do Know That I Should Be Eating Fruit And Yogurt Or a Bircher Pot But I Just Like My Choccy So Don't Chocshame Me OK, Anyway I Try Not To Start Monday Mornings With Weed That Stinks To High Heaven.

My eyes are bleeding and I've tried to read this around forty times and I still don't understand it at all, but fuck it, merry Christmas to every shotta out there!

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