Monday, January 25, 2010

Twitticisms

I suppose I was destined to embrace Twitter because I’ve always spoken fortune cookie. Check it out:

“Pray for riches and you’ll get nothing. Pray for wisdom and you’ll need nothing.”

I came up with that line a few months ago and immediately recognized it as a dandy little couplet. But what the hell am I ever going to do with it?

I don’t even buy it. Only fools would prefer a lot of wisdom to a lot of money.

The guys at the BMW dealerships don’t give Beamers for brains. It takes bucks.

That’s all the wisdom I need.

So until Twitter reared its dainty little feathered head, I didn’t have a place to use the gem that made any sense. So now I’m jumping into twitter with all eight fingers and one thumb.

Most recent Twitter post: “During all my typing commotion, my left thumb never even hits the space bar. When it comes to typing, my left thumb never lifts a finger.”

See, there you go. It’s a good line, but could I build an entire blog post around it? I don’t think so. So now I can use it and perhaps it’ll brain barnacle on someone who checks it out.

I don’t know whether 8days2Amish will become a farm team for www.EightDaysToAmish.com or vice versa. I think more than likely it’ll become a sort of greatest hits version of the blog.

It’ll be a place where I can take some of my best little nuggets and put them all in one big basket. I hope you’ll check it and encourage friends to do the same.

To save you the trouble of that, here’s the first 28 Tweets I’ve posted in the first week I’ve spent engaged in an endeavor I once ridiculed as being the province of vapid simpletons too weak-minded to engage in extended coherent thought.

Really, I may have been too harsh.

After all, if I limited my conversations to only intelligent people, I’d have to quit talking to even myself.

Hmmm . . . I think I’ll post that one!



-- A sleeping child in your arms is better than any drug. Problem is kids wake up. That's why there are real drugs.


-- Teenage girls who starve themselves to appear more like Hollywood anorexics ought to be called “slimitators.”


-- A single splash of water killed the Wicked Witch of the West. Logical conclusion: Not only was she evil, she also reeked.

-- We're all doomed to die, but if just one of us gets to live forever, I hope it's Keith Richards.

-- Dog's been dead 3 years. Sometimes I swear I can still smell his farts. It's either Casey's ghost or those were some powerful farts.

-- Someday I'm going to challenge the intellects of the airport security guys by trying to get through metal detectors wearing a suit of armor.

-- I ask more pointed and concerned questions of computer tech people than I did of our baby docs. Why? One earns money, the other spends it.

-- Being a writer is like being in a rubber raft way out at sea. Having tech problems is like being in that raft and hearing an urgent hiss.

-- If chickens ever start laying Cadbury eggs I'm becoming a chicken farmer.

-- Karma? Did two nice deeds for strangers today and came home to an IRS penalty letter. Then my computer jammed. Karma's crap.

-- People who refuse straws do not suck.

-- It's a cruel irony that things that could most benefit from alcoholic diversion -church, work, parenting - require at least some sobriety.

-- I have about the same interest in learning speed reading as I do in learning speed sex.

-- I hope heaven for Haitians is better for them than it is for guys like me. They sure deserve it.

-- I used to say bloggin was the writing equal of running a lemonade stand. Then I realized kids had the good sense to charge a quarter for lemonade.

-- The same people who say global warming is a hoax are the ones marveling at the snow & saying we haven't had a winter like this in 30 years.

-- Why are there locks on the lobster tank where I shop? If I'm a shoplifter, a live lobster is the last thing I'm stuffing down my pants.

-- Does anyone ever keep gloves in their glove box? I wonder if the dashboards on the space shuttles have glove boxes.

-- I love my family, but sometimes I need bar time with the boys the way worms need dirt. Happy Hour, here I come!

-- My 9-year-old daughter treats me like Moe treats Curly.

-- For the good of the show, American Idol should replace Simon Cowell with Dick Cheney. He'd be hilarious.

-- An hour spent listening to good country music is like an hour spent reading the
Bible while someone nearby plays a really good fiddle

-- Stephen King is the literary equivalent of an earth-devouring monster. Right now he’s killing my time. Yep, I'm reading "Under the Dome."

-- How do people from Wyoming, our most geographically square state, ever manage to think outside the box?

-- Times are tough, but I’ll burn the furniture for fuel before I give up my XM satellite radio.

-- Mick Jagger lecturing Ron Wood on polite behavior would be like me lecturing people on the need to be more industrious.

4 comments:

phd in yogurtry said...

I think Twitter is the electronic version of writing down an idea or creative thought on a bar napkin. Minus the alcohol. Or not. But capturing the best and putting on your blog? Case in point.

As for the karma tweet? Can't be too quick to write off karma. Maybe those two strangers you helped were cyber-stalkers or domestic terrorists or wrote ugly letters to the editor?

Rodell said...

Excellent analogy on the bar napkins. I already look back and see a host of blog worthy items. But I'm loathe to lose any opportunity to remove alcohol from any equation.

I'll keep my fingers crossed that the right kind of karma is heading my way. You, too, I hope!

Angie Ledbetter said...

Where might one purchase a bag of your fortune cookie tweets?

Rodell said...

Angie, they're free for my Cajun friends. Geaux Saints!