I find myself at work, constantly refreshing my Twitter page, waiting for you people to give me something worth the energy it takes for me to move my eyes four inches across the screen, and I realize that there needs to be some damn rules for Twitter. Let’s face it, if you’re not Renée Zellweger (why did I pick her? She is neither young, nor attractive, nor culturally relevant anymore, but I can’t turn back now), nobody needs to know that “OMG just fedd pupsy wupsy and went on a jogg and dropped the cutest little #2.” I want barf into my own eyes just reading that.
So, without further ado, here are the however many number of rules for Twitter. Follow them and don’t ask any questions. Stupids.