TwitBits: Why, if I were a spud

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think I was funny, but the truth is, I *do* try. I don’t have a lot of writing in me these days, but the banter on Twitter is good fodder for keeping me in the game. Some days are better than others. Here’s from today, all from before work in about 30 minutes (except the last two, written after my ride home) after I had an annoying visit on Facebook. Some days I have it, most days I don’t. It vanished on me as soon as I got home. Sigh. Poof.


  • Woman, fuck, you and your Facebook quizzes. I’m no longer blocking THEM, I’m blocking you. “Are you a potato?” No, you’re fucking BLOCKED.
  • Who has the time to take a quiz to decide whether or not they’re a POTATO? What, are you STONED 24/7? I know potheads with less time.
  • HA. A potato-quiz-taker, I presume, just stopped following me. Fine. Fuckin’ go. You’re a yellow-skin. THAT’s what kind of potato you are.
  • In case you’re wondering, if I were a potato, I would be a Yukon Gold. Buttery and delicious inside, and useful in many applications.
  • Furthermore? I didn’t have to take a motherfucking quiz to know I’d be a Yukon Gold. Why? Because I’M NOT A POTATO. I’m a STEFF.
  • In case people think I need a “happy intervention” or something, I’m in a *great* mood and have *fun* when I rant, so, really. I’m okay.
  • Okay, wait, I *would* be in a great mood if I didn’t have a motion-detecting stealth splinter mind-fucking me every time I try to tweez it.
  • You’d think splinters have intelligence ops centres. “Uh-oh, incoming. Retract! Retract! Behind that skinfold! Whew. Close call.”
  • Hey, look, I have a job! Silly employers. What were they thinking? ME? Ha. I’ll show ’em! Later, people.
  • It would appear that 80% of the population has taken their Stupidity Pills today.
  • I swear to god, I experienced 3 aneurysms vicariously just observing other people’s moronic moments en route home. It’s painful to behold.
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