Okay, so I’m not on Twitter. I was kidding with that last post. Ha! The joke was on you.
But more people took me seriously than I expected, so I guess the joke is on me.
The fact that several people took me seriously could mean that:
a) My faux tweets were convincing.¹
b) People did not actually read them.
c) People who Twitter are used to filtering out the sort of decontextualized response that I put up in “reply” to my imaginary friends.
The even bigger joke is that having made this joke, I’ve come terribly close to actually signing up for an account.²
The truth is, though, I really can’t afford another online timesuck. I’ve been so tempted, with various friends seeming to all be playing together off in Twitterland. So I stop by people’s Twitter pages.
Then I feel like I’ve stepped into a cocktail party full of people continuing a variety of conversations that I can’t quite follow. And I can’t even get a drink or find the cheese platter. My head spins around a bit, and then I leave.
Anyhow, my Tweetybird friends, I’m afraid I can’t come out to play with you now. But if I do, I promise that I will take every opportunity to write about ceiling tiles.
¹ But come on! I talked about cupcakes with exploding olives! I crack myself up!
² But I haven’t.³
³ Or have I?