After many months and much confused cocking of my head, I finally gave in to peer pressure and the allure of broadcasting every bizarre idea that cruises through my cranium to the Whole Wide Intarwebz, and signed up on Twitter. Or, as Lawyer Boy calls it, Tweeter. You can find me on Tweeter as @gracethoreau, or $gracethoreau, or #$%!gracethoreau, or whatever you use to Tweeter on me. At me. Upon me. All up in my Tweetness.
Regardless of whatever verb you would like to use in the phrase "____ @gracethoreau" (kick, hug, flying elbow) you should follow me on Tweeter. I just (like, right this hot second) discovered that I have to know someone's Tweetername to Tweetertalk to them, which really throws a wrench in my plan to get on Tweeter just to e-yell "stop being a dumb ho!" to Lindsey Lohan, Mary-Kate Olsen, Ashley Olsen, Heidi Montag-Breast, Kim Kardashian, Paris Hilton, and the chick at my office whose skirt was so tight today, I could see her soul through it.
There should be a button on the right-hand side of this illustrious bit of the Intarwebz directing you to my Tweeterage, but since I all but have a stroke and collapse anytime I have to do anything other than throw word bitlets at the Intarwebz, I make no promises.
That said, Tweet away!
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1 comment:
Now you have an excuse to repeatedly use the word 'twat' in polite company.
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