Poop Tweet > Blog Post

A recent blog post from here got some traction on Twitter and garnered hundreds of views for this blog. Maybe it was the picture I used.

Donald Trump :: GOP Clown Candidate

Regardless, hundreds of views and ZERO “Likes” on Twitter. Zero as in nothing. Zero as in less than one, and one is the loneliest number. Zero as in zed for our Canadian readers. Take off, eh!

The post took more time than my usual word diarrhea that I hurl at this screen almost daily like feces from my monkey cage that I call my office. I actually gave it a little thought. And yet, it remains wildly unlikable on Twitter and here.

But then I tweeted this innocuous, throwaway, insignificant response to a tweet from someone I follow …

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Flirtin’ With Disaster

Does anyone remember the Molly Hatchet song by that title? No, neither do I, except for the title. That’s a good song title. That’s what I was doing last night on my way out to dinner with friends.

On my drive to dinner that should have taken 45 minutes, but took over an hour, I was stopped by a train, encountered construction delays, and had to take a detour due to road closure. OK, so those are not really disasters, but once I got past them, there was impending disaster headed right at me as I was waiting stopped at a stoplight.

I could see it coming towards me from the driver’s side. I didn’t have much time to react, but even if I had, my sloth-like reflexes would have been over-matched. There was no way I was avoiding this disaster. I was going to be hit.

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