@Thank_Q Visits; 144 Characters My Ass

 

So. What the fuck is up with Twitter? Really, whatinthefuck is up with those guys? I got back from my trip to find that my Followers dealie has swelled to twenty-seven faithful while I was gone. As you know, having twenty-seven Followers for me is like other people having 4,000.

I seem to attract Followers like honey to bees because they sign-up to follow me like lemmings. They swarm in by the thousands, suck my nectar, and then swarm away. Just like undercooked spaghetti, most of what hits the wall comes unstuck quickly. I guess that the rest of that analogy would be that the Followers who do stick with me would have over-cooked brains. Their gray matter so mushy that it splats when it hits, and then simply dries in place.

I have a buddy, Delroy, lived next to Streaker Jones and me in college. Delroy taught me the pasta-on-the-wall trick way back then and he was quite the teacher. I’m a good pasta cooker now because of the starter course Delroy gave me back then. Learning the basics allowed me to build my pasta-cooking knowledge base.

He cooked spaghetti for entertainment as well as a teaching tool, pitching it all over his house. That boy had strings of pasta stuck on every surface in the place. When asked why, old Delroy would say, “Science. Think about it.”

Anyway, one of my new followers is @Thank_Q and that would be Quincy from over to Thank Q for Common Sense. He’s the guy with the funny pod cast dealie that the T-cat was on awhile back and he does interesting shit and stuff. I have been too busy to read his bloggie with everything going on here to Moonerland, but he has now shamed me into getting involved by Following me.

His name is Quincy, right?

I wanted to send him a “Thank-You” Twitter-mail thingie when I discovered that he had discovered me. I clicked onto the “Send Message” button, and started typing. I composed a quick message and hit “Send”.

All I got in response was a message that said, “You are allowed 144 characters… you have 1,983 characters too many.”

“What the fuck?” was my honest response.

Really, whatinthefuck is up with that shit? If I’m allowed only 144 characters, then why in the hell do I even get to waste my time typing even 145 FUCKING characters? Why let me type a novel if I’m allowed but a single fucking sentence?

Obviously, nobody at Twitter Home Office has the ADHD, or even its little brother, ADD. If they did, this particular glitch in their programs would not exist. If I only get 144 characters, then only give me 144.

Computer geek fuckbrains. I need a Carta Blanca beer. But maybe I should have some coffee and breakfast first. Then I’ll take a cooler with us to go fishing. I promised the Squirt and Eighty-three, the cat, that we’d go fishing.

Next time I post, remind me to tell you about Eighty-three and the alligator.

Manana, y’all.  And FUCK RICK PERRY!

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6 Responses to “@Thank_Q Visits; 144 Characters My Ass”

  1. Q says:

    LOL! Nice! Yeah, character limitations are the worst! I’m with you and I also think that if I’m limited in characters, then don’t let me type beyond the limit! Nothing is worst than writing a novel and then being told that you have to reduce it by 90% of what you’ve typed.

    BTW, were you one of the two people who listened to me, TOAR, and Thundercat rant for 30 minutes that day? Much appreciated! I’ll be checking your site out soon. I love a good rant on politicians and talking heads. Especially Rush! He’s the reason I started blogging. I got so upset last year over something that he said that I started a blog. I guess I owe him. Maybe I’ll send a photo of “the finger” to his studio as a thanks.

  2. admin says:

    Q. Thanks for stopping by. I’ve started reading the reality show you guys cooked up. Should rename it “Log Cabin Lock-up”. You guys are a trip. Fuck Rick Perry and Rush Limbaugh Too!

  3. Brandon says:

    I’m with Q. I don’t like limits on me. But with the recent blogger blackout, I started thinking of creative ways to keep entertaining, with the limit of 144 characters.

    Believe me, that was a bitch to attempt…

    As for the reality show, there are 2 men to 6 women. If ‘log’ was in the title, we would be trying to get a broadcasting deal from Hustler TV instead of CBS.

    But hey, money’s money, right?

  4. admin says:

    Brandon. I thank you too for dropping in. I’m OK with any word limit that allows me to say, “FUCK RICK PERRY!” Just don’t allow me to waste my time writing more and then make me feel like a moron when I do.

    As for your show, I think Squatlo was smart to keep me away. I only know two of the ladies, T-cat and the Reckster, and I’ve been dreaming about a sandwich cookie with them as the cake part with a hard Mooner center. I’m behind on my reading to start with, and now you guys are stacking it up.

    I’m just glad it’s good and I don’t have to punish myself to be a good buddy. BTW– does everyone know that the Peachster had a heart attack? She seems to be OK, but that’s all I know.

  5. Squatlo says:

    First of all, Mooner, I had nothing to do with the cast of the blogger show. Q came up with the original eight bloggers on his own, and only let me play along as the host who did all of the work setting up the story line and introducing the characters. I was pretty much told to get the hell out of the way once I’d done all the “tilling” for the garden. Trust me, you’d be in the damn house if I had any say of the thing. In fact, I might invite you in when it rolls back around to me again. I could say you’re there to protect the property and to keep the lunatics from burning down my mansion.

    Glad you’re back! I took a day off and Blogger went nuts while I was away, erased some posts and irritated sane people everywhere. It was like your computer/website issues had gone nationwide. Glad I missed all the drama attending a funeral.

    Your governor is a fucking idiot, Mooner. Tell others.

  6. admin says:

    Squat. If you guys were using Word Press I’d accept full responsibility for the crash. Sounds like one of the exact problems I had. I consider my actions during all of that to be a sign of personal growth. I have enough M-80’s and Cherry Bombs in storage to disintegrate the Rock of Gibralter. The simple fact that I didn’t blow GoDaddy headquarters to smithereens is amazing.

    Don’t you love that word, smithereens?

    The Blog Reality Show is genious and really fucking funny. I’m trying to catch up on my reading.

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