I received a gloating tweet from Kim an hour ago: “I am just 6,000 Followers away from 9 million!”
Oh, and you think that makes you sooooooo Kool.
I checked my twitter account, and I am…..going backwards?
Wow, unlike Facebook, which you can’t “Unface” from even through death, you can “unfollow” someone in twitter, and that is what is apparently happened to me this week, because after peaking at 86 Followers, I am at 79 today.
OMG! TSIF! WDIDN?
I can’t prove this, Kim, but I know you are behind this. You knew that if my Followership hit 100 before you hit 9 million, then the chatter would begin: ‘Do you think Rupert’s life really is Kooler than Kim’s?’ So you started contacting my Followers, one by one, didn’t you? You told them ‘Unfollow Rupert. If you don’t unfollow Rupert you’ll regret it. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next day, but someday and for the rest of your life.”
My son and I played 18 today at a golf course in Virginia. Is it possible that the same person (me) who got two pars also got two 8-over-Pars and one 10-over-par? Golf is so freakin’ unforgiving. I like those games, like tennis, where you can be down 3 sets to 0, 5 games to 0, and 40 to love, and still win. With golf, you get one 10 over par, and it’s mathematically impossible to break 100 (my goal).
And, yes, Kim, that was a metaphor. You know what a metaphor is? No “like” or “as”?
As in, you may feel pretty confident now, little Miss 9 million Followers, but I know my people are out there, and I have but to raise my trumpet (or clarion?) to my lips and sound the charge, and they will respond.
And I will have done it all without a perfume or lingerie line.
That doesn’t really work, does it? Not that I would ever do that.
Rupert