I’m tryin’ to get on the “tweet” bandwagon. It’s slow-going. And to make matters worse, it’s an election cycle. Yay. Don’t get me wrong. Those who know me in real life, know dern well how likely I am to “share” my opinions on political matters. I’m not one to shy away from a healthy discourse on politics. (And, yes, I know I could have simply written IRL, but then The Nana wouldn’t know what I was talking about. I’m moving her into the techno realm ever-so-slowly, you see.)
I am, however, one to shy away from chirpy tweets that border on the preachy. And I know preachy, folks. Oh yes, indeedy. Just ask my family. I get all “Thou shalt NOT…” from Mount Washmore on them at least once a week. At least.
But here’s the thing I wish about Twitter. I wish that you could somehow turn off all of the commentary that you don’t really want to have to scroll through. My time is precious, as is my vote; but, it’s my time! And I want to use it to go right to the conversations that I really want to take part in. Not to have to wade through chirpy chirp chirp after chirp about how this one went all “HOLLAH” on your party and that one went all “DIS” on your party. For Pete’s sake… Can’t a girl just get a good dip recipe and fly away?
And speaking of dips, let’s talk about a little something I like to call… torture. You see, dips are a part of our weekly meal planning. Really. Not even kidding. At least once a week. But, because I’m making an effort to get back on the healthy eating train, I’m counting my chips again. Gah, that sounds so draconian. I’m talking good ol’ points counting and such. It’s what works for me.
Anyhoo, Sweetman can be a bit daft when it comes to “helping” me count those chips. I ask you, are there about 24 of those little round ones (because you get WAY more than with the big blue ones)? You tell me.
Well, let’s check out the bowl that was set down in front of me from a different angle, shall we?
Sweet Mound Of Mercy, I think not! And, of course, once set in front of me, I feel the need to finish them right off because, c’mon y’all, the kids were just put down for bed and I certainly don’t want to have to open up the crinkly chip bag to put the leftover ones back. Right? Can I get an Amen?
Alas… I think I’ll start counting with the next Diptastic Dinner. Yes, yes indeed. That sounds about right to me.