Why I don't have a Twitter

"Reruns of Shear Genius are on-whoot"

"I love Victoria Stilwell. Pity (or blessing) my dog doesn't need training"

"It is 83 degrees in my house right now and humid as heck, but my lovely low power bill is preventing me from turning on the air. I'm cheap and I sweat. Own it."

"Hair appointment booked. Whoot."

"Photography lesson booked. Whoot"

Are you annoyed yet? Cause I am. And yes, I literally think in little status updates. All day. Everyday. Whoot. But I keep most of them to myself. Because I don't want to be THAT girl. At least not on Twitter.

"Celery and Cream Cheese is so good. Whoot."

"No wait. Celery and peanut butter is better."

"Celery and Archer Farm's Feta and Roasted Red Pepper dip wins. Whoot-whoot!"

Oh yes, we progressed to the double whoot. What? You don't believe the worthiness of the double whoot? Well, Twitter or no, my celery snack plate was off the chain.

What? You don't keep a ball-peen hammer on your dinning room table?

Oh, and the real reason I don't have a Twitter? It's two fold: 1-I don't understand the whole @blahblah and #whattheheckisahashtag. 2-I have a "dumb phone" that doesn't connect to the internet. So, my annoying whoot-laden tweets?  All coming to you on Saturday afternoon. 

Oh wait, they just did. 

Love to all,

~the "I'm not afraid to say technology still confuses me at times, but food doesn't" gal, Jess