The "Alexandra" Fetish

I never go on Twitter.
Well, sometimes I go on Twitter. The last time was when my roommates and I discovered "Jersey Shore" the first time. I tweeted about it.

So a few weeks ago, my Sean texts me about joining Twitter--the conversation was fairly predictable: How do I get a Twitter? What should my name be? What to I tweet about?
But I didn't have time to talk about it then. "We'll talk about this later," I said. But we never did. We don't need to, I thought, because I'd just received an email-- Mr. Strike wants to follow you on Twitter. My Sean had figured it out for himself...

...or so I thought, until today, right now...

With thirty minutes to calm my mind before the economics test that will determine my grade for the semester, I decided to sign onto Twitter, where I found seven follow-requests (which probably have a special Tweet-y-name in Tweet-land--I'm not that savvy yet), all of which I accepted.
So I decided to check out Mr. Strike's profile.
Last Tweet: February 24th: "I'm so fu**in horny."
Well that's bold, Sean, and somewhat out-of-character.

Scrolling down, I realize each and every one of his Tweets was of this nature, accompanied by what could be considered an appropriately themed wallpaper: naked women, and boobs, boobs, boobs.
But wait, all of his friends are named "Alexandra..."

Correct me if I'm wrong, but Martin Luther King Jr. was not Lincoln's Alter-Ego

7:15 am: roommate sets off fire alarm
7:17 am: I show roommate how to make alarm stop
10:35 am: Music is my boyfriend
11:25 am: I'll do whatever I need to do to get an auto-tune voice changer
2:16 pm: no I will not participate in your snowball fight
3:10 pm: do they cancel parades for snow?
4:35 pm: I'm loving angels instead

Brenda and the Pencil Sharpener

She keeps it in her coat pocket. That poor girl.

On second thought...

might they be unicorns in disguise, shrouded in an ugly grey veil, just trying to blend in?

Well who am I to say they're ugly?

The Glory Days, for the Rhinos, at least

Today I was wondering what kind of dinosaur I would have been back in prehistoric America.

That led me to wonder where dinosaurs were most prevalent.

Isn't that the kind of thing you should learn in elementary school? The kind of useless information that should stick with you your whole life, the kind of thing you wish you didn't know because you'd rather have more space to learn important things, like the structure of fiscal policy or how to really play poker?

But most importantly, it led me to wonder if rhinoceroses are leftover dinosaurs.

Isn't it the only thing that makes sense?

They're big, sturdy, and grey. With horns, kind of like a triceratops, and scaly skin like I would imagine a dinosaur would have--kind of like an iguana. And they don't really have predators, and they travel in packs, and no one ever wakes up thinking, "Today I'm going to mess with a rhinoceros."

Nothing like a camel. (Camels are furry, slow, and harmless-looking. That doesn't mean they're actually harmless, but what is, really? Anyway, I had to compare it to something from the animal world otherwise it would have been completely random and off-base. And for Lent I'm trying to be less random, more easy-to-follow, among other things, like being less passive aggressive. All of these things will contribute to a personality reform, in a good way: a more down-to-earth way.)

These are the Glory Days for the rhinos, since they are the leftover dinosaurs.

I think that's enough for today.

Keep in mind I don't re-read these posts before I publish them. That would be a waste of time.

Remind me to write a poem about rhinos.

And please recognize, that I made an extreme effort to chronologically describe my thought process on this one.

Happy Monday