I’ll set it up for you:
I’m sitting at work with a few minutes to spare on one of my government required 15 minute work breaks (side note: I’m considering taking up smoking since, as I’ve noticed, this gives you more of these breaks seeing as you’re addicted and it’s now considered a “health issue”) (I’m actually not considering this at all.) when I decide to sign onto Twitter and see what’s going on with my friend, my buddy, the perfect stranger, Tina Fey. Naturally.
Lo and behold, I find that what WAS a picture of my cute precious Winston has now become a fat, balding man in a black Speedo with a giant gold chain necklace. (I’ll note that the “focal” point on this picture was right where you’d imagine…lower blubber belly to *SICK* Speedo area.)
As I sat and wondered, “Is someone playing a prank on me? Did they somehow crack my outstanding code and break into my Twitter account?” I looked to see if this sicko had posted anything. Absolutely cringing after seeing the picture and wondering what said person could possibly, and shamelessly, post on my account was this lovely message:
“Does anyone have the name of a good doc? My rash has been acting up again.”
I’ll give you time to vomit in your mouth like I did.
Ok, all finished?
After seeing this…I realized that not even my bestest of friends would get online and publicly humiliate me like that. (Though, admittedly, this was kinda humorous.)
So…my next step was to see if anyone had responded to this audacious and despicable posting only to find that, nope, notta one had said a word!! Not even a “Lib…what the hey is that picture and where did you find it?” Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Cero.
So. Moral of the story? My friends obviously think that my sense of humor is such that it would lead me to actually making a post such as that and change my profile pic to what looked like George Costanza in a teenie bikini bottom AND I need to create stronger passwords.
Lesson learned…and a slow clap to whoever taught me that lesson. Whoever you are, thanks for not posting porn.