So I decided I’d start Twittering today. Then I started Twittering. And that was that.
Literally, I have nothing to Tweet about. Nothing.
Picked my nose. Felt nice. Breathing better.
Have never had ham or bacon in my life. Feel good about that.
Was just thinking about Sugar Ray Leonard. He was fast.
My sandwich isn’t very good. It came with onions. I don’t like onions. Maybe I should take it back. Should I? Maybe. I don’t know.
Short people are funny. But my wife is short, and not all that funny. But I love her anyway.
My shoelace is untied. Right shoe. White lace. Draggin’. Damn.
Why are these shorts itching? Did I not wash them? Hmmm
See? I’m boring as all hell. I could go all Skip Bayless, and pretend I’m angry about things I didn’t even know existed three minutes earlier (Seriously, this clip sums up Skipâ€”who can’t even name five rappers, yet can comment at length on Eminem). But where’s the value in that? I only crave attention when my books come outâ€”and I don’t have any upcoming releases. So, well, yeah. No Twittering for me. Hell, I don’t even text. Really, I don’t.