CrazyConvos – It's Not Me, It's You (Las Vegas)

Crazy Conversations 📱💬

We all know texting is a minefield. Somewhere between “wyd?” and “u up?” lies the stuff of nightmares — and we want it.

This is the page for your most unhinged chats, deranged DM slides, and back-and-forths that should’ve been left in drafts. If it made you stare at your phone in horror, laugh out loud alone in your bed, or block someone mid-convo, it belongs here.

What We’re Looking For:

Text threads that belong in a museum of red flags.

Pickup lines so bad they should be a federal offense.

Gaslighting attempts so sloppy even your cat rolled its eyes.

Accidental voice notes, thirst traps gone wrong, or that one “oops” message you still think about in the shower.

Bonus points if you actually replied with something equally unhinged

How To Subm:

Fill out below and screenshot the convo (yes, spelling errors included).

Tell us the context if it’s too wild to decode (we’re funny, not psychic).

A chance to traumatize strangers with your pain (in a good way).

Name (or witness protection ID): *

Drop your email (no burner accounts, coward). *

Should we email you when we finally achieve basic adulting and organize a mailing list? *

Consent.... Because Consent Is Sexy.

I consent to having my submission used during the show, on social media, and/or in future “It’s Not Me, It’s You” content, recordings, and merchandise.

By submitting this form, I confirm that I am doing so of my own free will (and not under duress, thirst, or a post-breakup spiral). I grant full permission for my submission—edited, paraphrased, dramatized, or re-enacted—to be used publicly, worldwide, in perpetuity, and I understand this consent is irrevocable (aka I can’t change my mind later).

I affirm that I own the rights to everything I’m submitting, that it does not infringe on any third-party rights, and that I will not hold “It’s Not Me, It’s You” or its affiliates liable for any claims related to its use. Basically: don’t send us something you stole unless you’re cool with the original owner seeing it on a T-shirt.

I waive any right to compensation, royalties, or legal action (no matter how wildly successful this becomes). I also agree not to sue, because we are poor, and any profits will likely be used for alcohol (for research and reward purposes), therapy we won’t attend but fully support, and emotional support snacks.

This agreement is governed by the laws of the State of Nevada, because that’s where we live, love, and roast dating culture. *

Yes, I understand I will never see royalties, but I will see my dignity vanish in real time.

I understand my real name will stay hidden unless I’m dumb enough to approve otherwise. *

If Netflix Adapted This, What Would It Called? (Optional)

Confess Your Textual Sins. This Is Your Confession Booth. Be Not Afraid, My Child. *

How Did You Respond? Did You Ghost Them? Or Did You Give Them A Verbal Beat Down So Epic Their Ancestors Felt It... Like A Responsible Adult? *

Screenshot It, Censor Names If You Want... Or Don't. We're Not The Feds *