A tweet I couldn't bring myself to twit, to wit:

:Mother may I murder you, your cat, and Mr. Santa too? Mother may I walk the dog, deserves a jog. We quaff your bloody brew #tistheseason:

I was ready to put that on my feed, so ready, but never was I less able a twitterer. So bet it. It is my fate to stand above the muck and say No, I have standards! I'm borderline heroic, tragically. Alas and sigh.