In our last post, we used the phrase “douche-canoe” to describe an idiot we regretting following in the first place. You probably know it’s our practice to avoid following “online marketing superman” and “social media guru” types, but occasionally, one sneaks in without us realizing it. Usually, they start out as normal people, just making connections on twitter, and then they play the follower game until their numbers make them appear to be influential, and their ego grows in a direct relationship to their inflated follower count. When we discover we’re following these posers, we unfollow, but in the case of this particular douche-canoe, it wasn’t soon enough

Unfortunately, to at least one person, it appeared as if we were calling @thebloggess a douche-canoe. Not even. We think she is awesome, and read her blog religiously. In fact, since we haven’t been to church in years, you might say The Bloggess is our religion.

We failed. The reason for the confusion is totally ours. “Douche-canoe” was originally coined on the now defunct (and we miss it terribly) column: Ask the Bloggess. We wanted to link to the definition, and since that column is now gone, we searched backwards through her entire blog, and found the first reference was November 20, 2009. Although we thoroughly enjoyed the research (she says douche-canoe a lot), it didn’t seem appropriate to link to that blog post, so we linked to her blog. Without explaining why we did so, it looked like we were calling her a douche-canoe.

No way. Jenny is awesome. Read her blog, and you’ll see why everyone loves her. It’s not just us.

PS: Jenny isn’t the one who thought we called her a douche-canoe. It was @jackassletters, to whom we owe a debt of gratitude. We don’t want to do anything that might make Jenny feel stabby.

When we woke up this morning, we had a message from alert Honorary Fail Bird Handler @AMtwo that made us all tingly all over. This is the kind of fails that make our day as beautiful as lasers at a rock concert:

The link was to a copy of this awesome tweet:

The Red Cross is manned (and womanned) by a bunch of hard working folks. We love the Red Cross, ever since they rescued the Fail Bird Handler, and her little girl, in a blizzard several years ago. There is nothing more exhilarating, after being stuck sideways in a ditch on the wrong side of the road in a Plymouth Horizon for 10 hours, as the snow slowly buried the car and her occupants, than the sight of an Army Half Track vehicle cresting the hill ahead, followed by a white van with a big red cross on the side. We’ve donated regularly and often since that day, and would happily buy a beer for anyone who works there.

Some people don’t feel as we do, and that tweet could have turned into a PR disaster. They quickly removed the tweet, and instead of waiting for everyone else to start pointing fingers, poked some fun at themselves:

There are many ways the Red Cross could have handled this mess, and they made the right choice. They showed everyone that they are not a big, faceless corporation, but rather, a collection of real people. Every PR agency should take note of the classy way they handled their fumble.

But it gets even better. Dogfish Head Brewery stepped up and, instead of capitalizing on the namedrop, asked their fans to donate to the Red Cross. A class act, followed by another class act.

Pop over to the Red Cross and donate a bit of your beer money for the week. Help real people help real people in need.

And, if you’ve already done so, this mama and her little girl thank you very much.

I don’t care.

Some people have asked why I write this blog. Why I care about how people use twitter. Isn’t this just a colossal waste of time, and all that.

I started this blog because I saw something funny on twitter, and wanted to tell someone about it. And then there was another. So, I thought, why not create a blog, and when I see something funny on twitter, I’ll just share it. So I did.

I’ve found a bunch of things on twitter that are so awful they make me scream with glee. Some things that are so hilarious to me that I can’t sit back and ignore them. They HAVE TO be shared. Here’s what I’ve discovered over the past couple of years: some people get it, and a lot of others really don’t.

I don’t care.

I write for me. If you don’t like what I have to say, check out Jackass Letters, The Bloggess, or Tremendous News. Each one of them is funnier without trying than I am on my best day.

Some people laugh at the garbage I write. Those people need more help than I can give. Don’t make any sudden moves around them. You never know what’s going to happen next. They’re my loyal readers, though, so please treat them kindly.

I’m going to still post on here when the mood strikes. The next time I run across something on twitter that makes me wet my pants, you’ll know about it.

The truth, though, while we’re at it?

I don’t care how you use twitter. I don’t care what you use it for. If you want to get 8 billion followers and post a ton of sponsored tweets; sell your soul to the devil of commerce while you sell your followers’ attention to the highest bidder, go right ahead. I don’t care. I won’t follow you. And, if you sneak into my twitter stream by being social, and then build an astronomical following by playing all those numbers games, just so you can make a buck off of me, I’ll unfollow. If you spam me, I’ll block you. And, if you’re a celebrity, or have a private account, I won’t follow you back. Those are my rules for me. You can do whatever you want.

I don’t care.

I get on to twitter to socialize and have a good time. It happens every time I’m there, because to me, twitter is one giant cocktail party. Sometimes there’s an open bar and all the most fun people show up. Other times, it’s just me and the bartender. Either way, I have a couple of laughs, and move on, and hope you can do the same.

I’ve met some great people on twitter. Some who make me laugh. Some who make me think. People who listen when things don’t go well, and cheer when it all goes right. I never would have met any of them if twitter hadn’t been invented. Twitter is an awesome playground, and I feel privileged to have found so many wonderful playmates.

And, to the rest, who think I’m a jerk, or not funny, or mistakenly believe I’m trying to tell people what to do – the ones who don’t get me at all? Don’t follow me.

I don’t care.

About this time of year, all of us US Americans are getting pretty tired of the lying, mudslinging, and general politicking that takes over the airwaves. Now that its pollution has oozed onto twitter, there’s no place left unsleazed.

And then, a politician does something entirely out of the box, and renews our faith in the American Political System in such a way that makes us downright giddy. Like @sarahpompei, the press secretary for Meg Whitman, who is apparently running for office in California.

To punctuate the direct hit on her opponent, Meg lets the music do the talking for her.

http://bit.ly/bNCAV

Nice metaphor, Meg. Soft on crime = pink tutu. A position statement and punchline, all in one. This sets a new standard for humor in political advertising, and we totally support this bold move.

We checked out your website, and have some other suggestions for you, if you don’t mind.

Spending

Jobs

Education

And, when you win, or lose, the election (we don’t care which) how about this classic, from the Rolling Stones.

I am Meg Whitman and I approve this bassline.

We want to make one thing perfectly clear: Smiling Bob is the creepiest pitch man for any product on tv or anywhere else, ever. The commercial at the holidays with all the ladies who want to sit on Santa Bob’s lap? It almost put us off television permanently. Yet another reason to hate Christmas.

Is there a real woman, anywhere in the world who actually finds Bob sexy? Who is supposed to swoon at his idiotic grin – the gals on the golf course who admire the long drive of his wood, or the men who coveted the straight shaft of his 9 iron? And, if Bob was such a big guy, how was he supposed to get around such an impediment to a perfect stroke?

So, what about Bob?

Our friend and Honorary Fail Bird Handler, @jackassletters, alerted us to @SmilingBobSays the other day. Just like a bunch of people who heard that twitter is the place to arouse customer interest, grow your base, and lengthen your reach, Enzyte put Bob to the task of erecting a social media presence. We’re not sure what kind of training they gave him, but for a stellar performance, you need to at least bone up on the basics. Apparently, Bob couldn’t deal with the stiff demands of the job, because he ended up looking like a tool.

Smiling Bob’s account hasn’t been updated since November 10, 2009. We guessing he got completely overwhelmed by the responsibility and can no longer keep it up.

–
By the way, read @jackassletters letter to Enzyte here. It’s way funnier than this post.

And, we gotta say, his hands are gigantic. Don’t know how he can even type with those things.