What would American authors tweet?
We’re sure you’ve often wondered, what would American authors tweet, if they were inclined to confine themselves to 140 characters? Well, wonder no more:
I have stared into the darkness of the deepest night and found not God or the Devil but my Own Face. You know. I’m good lookin’.
Taking a nap to write Great American Novel tonight by the light of a gossamer moon. Plan to write a book to torture kids for centuries. Wish me luck suckas!
Took off all my clothes on Mt. Pisgah today and felt the Oversoul play amongst my genitalia. Oh what a feeling to be alive!
I’m givn a lecture tonight at Cafe de Concord. 7pm. German Romanticism and Its Effects on American Babes. Half priced lattes!
I bought out the red cups at Shoprite!! Who is ready to Par-tay? You bring cola, I’ll get the rum and we’ll rumba all the way down Broadway. YOLO!
Examined myself naked in a full length mirror this morning. What a physique! What tone! What abs! Think I’ll write a poem.
Started a diary. Puttin’ those Benjamin’s spent at Harvard by squattin’ on buddy’s land. Have fun at work. Time to fish. I ain’t no fool.
The Select was lovely tonight. Tomorrow, the Dingo? Was nice sharing a drink. It’s dark now. Need a clean place to write.
How ‘bout this for new novel: Call me Billy, if you’d like. Or William. Or Bill. Or Will, But not Willy. Definitely not Willy.
Sitting in white in my room listening to Death Cab. Saw a cute dude across the street, closed the blinds and wrote a poem no will will read
Shout out to my sistas! Yo bitches! My britches need stitchin’ Who’s up for making S’mores after I churn me some butta?
Another despicable, detestable, abhorrent day with my ignominious, disreputable synapses in my lowdown, abject, and shabby cranium
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