Tweet release.

As Mr. Philbin knows, and as I have written before, I have staunchly refused to Tweet on Twitter. I'm too free-form for that, man. Too blogalicious.

It's not that I am incapable of the 140-character zinger. Heck, my dog could do that. C'mere, Tralfaz! Tweet for the people!

If ur gonna be late for dinner, leave ur feet and the A1 sauce by the door

Puppy shlobber clinically proven to cure many skin ailments

Was excited to go to eye doc when u got ur glasses--i wanted some too but found out that thats not why i can't read - damn

U call it a crate to make urself feel better but everyone knows it's a cage

I think u liked me better when u thot I could speak English & was just obstinate


See? I could come up with some too, if I wanted to. So there!

No, my main problem is that I look like an idiot enough of the time as it is. Let me put this succinctly, in less than 140 characters---a rule you should post backward on your forehead so you see it every day in the mirror: If you can’t control your anger, DO NOT TWEET. You've seen examples constantly. It's terrible to be a well-respected and wealthy person brought to groveling apology by something you let out in public; it's worse if you're a low-level schlub whose career is completely ruined by the same thing.

 

And I'm not sure I trust myself. Too many people need a trip to the woodshed, and when I'm sore I get to thinking that I'm the one who needs to be administering the whuppin'.

Plus, I don't want to make the other guys feel bad. James Patterson only has 57,900 followers, for one. He's a prolific and accomplished guy. Why would I want to start Tweeting and racking up followers? Just to make him feel bad?

Well, I'm sorry, people, but that's just not the Fred way.