It never stops. This Is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest. Follow, favorite, retweet @thisisconlan.
Retweets speak louder than words.
This is a clever new twist on the old adage, “Actions speak louder than words.” But the part I like about it is, it’s totally true.
Being a defeatist isn’t as kick-ass as it sounds.
Maybe it doesn’t sound very kick-ass, I don’t know.
The enemy of my enemy is probably an asshole too.
I generally find that people who define themselves in opposition to something—rather than in support of something else—tend to be assholes. I know I am.
I expect big things from you, but I expectorate even bigger things from me.
Seriously, you should see this stuff.
PRAY FOR TWITTER.
I don’t really know why I tooted this. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
Typing a quotation mark as two apostrophes is something that some people actually do.
People are interesting.
When people say “there are two sides to every story”, they usually just want you to stop paying attention to the side that isn’t theirs.
There are three sides to every story. And none of them are true.
The thing about homeopathic “medicine” is, for it to work, it’d have to violate every known law of biology, chemistry, and physics.
In many cases, not a single molecule of the “active ingredient” ((I use the term loosely, because there’s usually no evidence that the active ingredients actually help with anything. And it’s usually in such small quantities that it’s literally impossible for it to have any affect on you.)) remains in the final solution of homeopathic remedies. Seriously, look it up. You’re better off praying or saying a magical incantation (God and Gaia don’t want you to give your money to swindlers). You still might get a placebo effect and you’ll be saving cash, which you can send to me (God and Gaia are OK with that).
I don’t like when a woman tries to act like “one of the guys”. Not because women shouldn’t act like men, but because nobody should.
Guys are gross.
There’s nothing so refreshing as fresh-brewed iced tea. There’s nothing so defreshing as “instant” iced tea from concentrate.
We can put a man on Mars, but we can’t abolish this abomination? Way to go, humanity.
A stranger is just a friend who won’t tell you that you have bad breath yet.
The good news is, you just made a new friend.
You really screwed the pooch when you started taking every idiom literally.
Poor dog. It has no money.
Whenever I see a really cute little kid, I just want to punch them in their cute little face (out of appreciation).
Maybe this is inaccurate. Maybe I just want to punch something. Haven’t you ever been overcome by so much genuine cuteness that it made you angry? I have.
Just kidding. I don’t talk like that.
So don’t even be trippin’.
Every time I see a box of a certain size, I can’t help but think: there’s a severed human head in there.
This doesn’t really have to do with the movie Seven. ((I tooted this before I saw the great swede at Swede Fest.)) It just seems like some boxes were made for heads. Ring boxes were made for rings and head boxes were made for heads. It’s science.
The cornstalks were as high as an elephant’s eye and as thick as an elephant’s… trunk.
Good save, Conlan.
That concludes this episode of This Is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest.