Hey guys, I hope you'll allow me to be serious for a second. As you may or may not know I recently got a job as a bird and pig handler, as such next week will be a guest week, so I'll have some time to acclimatize to my new day-to-day routine.
But don't worry, the Twogag Facebook page will still be around to keep you company. Like a stranger in the dark.
The problem with friends is their screwed up reward systems. If I've earned the prestigious title of "your best friend" then why would you ask me to help you move? I don't understand why I'm being punished!
Something that'll never ask you to help it move is the Twogag Facebook page. But it'll punish you in other creative ways.
When I was a kid my psychiatrist diagnosed me with schizophrenia, so you can imagine how I got really paranoid when my brother insisted that I didn't have a psychiatrist. But as it turned out, my brother suffered from a rare case of pre-adolescent Alzheimer's. Also he didn't exist.
I'm better now though, but I'm still uncertain to if my Twitter account is real or a schizophrenic figment of mine.
Whenever somebody tells me to guard something with my life I ask what's in the bag, because I'm not staking my life for anything less than an iPod.
My Twitter is a good thing to tell your friends to follow. Maybe not your best friends, but like, that guy that overheard you planing a party and kinda had to invite to not feel like a dick. Those are my people.