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.
In actuality it isn't the cool people that can talk and sip a drink at the exact same time. But those who're willing to spend the time to hone and perfect that difficult skill. ... I've wasted my life.
Something else that's difficult to master, is coming up with new interesting ways of trying to fool you into following my Twitter feed!
I've never been in a protest but if I were I imagine it would be against stuff I don't agree with. Like rights.
Those protesters never did manage to get that law passed which would make my Twitter feed the exemption to the freedom of speech. But that's because it might've been a story I made up on twitter, I'm never sure what's real or twitter anymore. Oh, I should tweet that!