Here are a few imagined past US presidents’ Twitter musings, had these men been privileged enough to experience the world of microblogging and oversharing culture in their time as presidents of the United States of America. Please forgive any historical innacuracies–this contributor was a psychology major.
I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the naked pictures of Ryan Philipe in the world except possibly that ass shot in Cruel Intentions occasionally and anyway you haven’t even seen that movie, which thank heavens so you can watch it for the first time with me.
If you buy into the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis and you’re at a restaurant, you’re probably like “Waiter! Let’s get some new words for our complex feelings so we can have more emotionally enriched lives, stat.” Well, I’m working on it.
This past weekend, at the crowded gate before a crowded Penn State football game, I had my ass grabbed by a drunk 45-year-old woman. If you’ll permit me, I’d like to work through this by way of an open letter directed at her.
You’re tired, but we’ve been up since five and probably before because we have to commute into this neighborhood we obviously can’t afford, and we assuredly have another job. You’re tired, but when you order by saying “I need a…” we want to put our fingers into the grinder’s teeth.