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I am not a member of the test group for Twitter’s expansion of the tweet from 140 characters to 280.

This makes no sense to me, because I like to be involved in everything. Also, I spend the hours of 8AM to 5PM staring at Twitter until my eyes feel like they have been rolled in sand and struck by lighting and turned into ornate, priceless glass sculptures like the ones you might see in the Corning Museum of Glass or the 2007 Reese Witherspoon film Sweet Home Alabama. I spend the hours of 10PM to 12AM scrolling through Twitter on my phone until the tendons in between my thumb and index finger pop and scream, the pain eventually knocking me out, a biological defense mechanism that induces sleep to save the body from total destruction. Not…

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