“I have a dead deer in my yard”
“There’s a bathtub in the back of my truck.”
Nothing about a chicken coop?
“I have no idea what’s all over my thumbs.”
Starting to worry about mob activity.
Let us know if you get one that says “Luca Brasi sleeps with the rubber duckies.”
We’ll send help.
Yeah, you all must think I am a complete hillbilly.
I was thinking that other people could contribute their odd texts either sent or received.
ETA Amateur Barbarian can read my mind!
Sounds like the Cervidae version of Very Bad Things. What happens when a stag party goes very wrong.
Edited to add: I’d add my own humorous text message, but I’ve only sent one in my life and it read “I’m running late. Be there at 1:30”. Hilarious.
Don’t know if this exactly counts, but recently a friend sent me a text that said, “Want to come later?” I texted back, “Dunno. Do I get dinner first?” 
Another one this morning
Bag of Doritos, breakfast of champions.
So sorry. I’m quite new to texting. I can’t imagine anyone I know sending me a text that didn’t have complete contextual information, which would make “weirdness” of any sort out of the question.
And no, I don’t think of you as a hillbilly. The chicken coop line was a callback to the drama with your former employee and the various men in her life.
If you dress him up in clothes after & throw a wake, don’t forget to tie a beer can to his hoof… 
“Oh Lord. Almighty God. It ain’t for us ignorant mortals to say what’s right and what’s wrong. Was any one of us to be doin’ of it, we’d not of bring this poor fawn into the world a cripple, and his mind teched.
We’d of bring him in straight and tall like his brothers, fitten to hunt. But in a way o’ speakin’, Lord, you done made it up to him. You give him a way with the wild creatures. You give him a sort of wisdom,
made him knowin’ and gentle. The birds come to him, and the varmints moved free about him, and like as not he could of takened a she wild-cat right in his pore twisted hooves. Now you’ve done seed fit to take him where
bein’ crookedy in mind or limb don’t matter. But Lord, it pleasures us to think now you’ve done straightened out them legs and that pore bent back and them fender-busted hooves. It pleasures us to think on him, movin’ around as easy as any one.
And Lord, give him a few red-birds and maybe a squirrel and a 'coon and a ‘possum to keep him company, like he had here. All of us is somehow lonesome, and we know he’ll not be lonesome, do he have them little wild things around him,
if it ain’t askin’ too much to put a few varmints in Heaven. Thy will be done. Amen.”
“But, hey, I’m just a guy who ‘can’t evolve’, right?”
“Just unlocked my truck with a three foot long piece of beef jerky.”
“Jiggly, milky doom.”
“leave your shirt on this time”
followed shortly after by
“sorry, not meant for you”
Gary Spivey is in the Charlotte airport.
For reference
Sent from a male friend: "Last week I had a beard growing contest with an Iranian…
… Man, I can’t believe she won!"