A few months ago I did a Twillustration℠ of a tweet by @luckyshirt. I thought it was pretty funny. Unfortunately, the subject matter meant that it was unsuitable for this here family-friendly blog. I harassed @luckyshirt until he gave me his email address. I never heard from him after I emailed the Twillustration℠. Even though it probably it went in his spam folder and he never saw it, I can’t help but believe he thinks I made a completely inappropriate advance towards him and now he regards me as a dangerous carnal predator.
*Gratuitous Unimportant Confession About Yourself Monday. Obvs.
In which I have an emo poetry moment and disguise it as a grown-up rant.
'You've got way too much time on your hands.'
This is a special comment that I get from people when I make strange drawings and videos. Those people with their special comment have given me a fun idea. Let’s apply that statement to everything people do in their free time.
—OMG, guys! Did you see X Factor this weekend?! —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I spent my weekend watching spoiled grown-ups play with a ball. It rocked! —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I hit a little ball with expensive sticks fewer times this afternoon than I ever have before! —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I drank lots of beer! —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—My tomato plants are coming along nicely. —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I put some grout between my tiles. It’s coloured grout! —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I baked cookies! —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I played a gig with my band. —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I took beautiful photos of nature —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
—I volunteered at a homeless shelter. —You’ve got way too much time on your hands.
Nobody says that. All that stuff is fine. And making silly pictures is fine too, if you’re eight. But if a guy in his mid 30s with maturity issues draws a silly picture, he’s got way too much time on his hands.
Well, so do the rest of you. You just don’t have the guts to spend it doing silly stuff (unless you do, which is probably most of the people reading this rant, thereby rendering it pointless). We live in the western world. We don’t have to spend 18 hours every day trying to survive. We’ve all got way too much time on our hands. I know already. So stop telling me.
Also, it’s about bleeding time that entire universe shifts and becomes more affirming of my peculiar and superior genius, because one day, I’ll show all of you.
“I’ve learned two important things about you people since I’ve been Tumblring. 1) You don’t like choosing the tweets for Twits Illustrated. 2) You don’t like it when I post pictures of sleeping cats. Message received and filed for future reference.”—
In which I invite participatio-- Oi! Don't keep scrolling. Read this.
Okay, this is going to be fun, and by fun I mean more fun than you’ve ever had scrubbing a toilet. And don’t be all, ‘I totally love cleaning and stuff, and I don’t care if I am scrubbing a toilet covered with flecks and splashes of human waste because the endorphins that are released by cleaning and satisfaction of a job well done, no matter how transitory the results of that well done job may be, more than compensate for the aversion a normal person feels when confronted with the filth of humanity.’ Don’t be like that. Because you would be lying. This is more fun.
I follow 145 people. That’s all my tiny little brain can handle. It’s enough to keep me amused and amply supplied with Twillustration℠ material, but I want to cast my net a bit wider for Twits Illustrated 52. Would you be so kind as to recommend for Twillustration℠ tweets from people you think I don’t follow? Maybe someone who would really enjoy the result.
I will be very grateful. And you — I can sense your tingling excitement from here. How about you put the toilet brush down and toss me a link?
In which @wryredhead is witty and gracious and I am an egomaniacal prat
Jeff:Hi, Amanda. First of all,congratulations on being my winner. (That's not really a question, but feel free to answer anyway.)
Amanda:Hi Jeff! First of all, thank you for putting this whole thing on. I'm so excited to be a winner! This is WAY better than that time I put a quarter in the prize machine for a wiggly-wall-walker and got a stupid "Bratz" sticker instead. WAY better.
Jeff:I can see you have a real gift for understatement. Winning The Great 48 Twits Illustrated Giveaway is, I'm sure, the greatest moment of your life. Would you say that you feel like Mandela being freed from prison and defeating Apartheid or more like the Ewoks after learning their part in the overthrow of the Emperor?
Amanda:You know, Jeff, I would take it even past that and say that my joy could only have been surpassed by Mandela actually defeating George Lucas and removing Return of the Jedi and all the prequels from our collective unconscious.
Jeff:Nicely summed up. It really is amazing the power to bring joy to a person’s life that I created with this contest, isn’t it?
Amanda:Yes. It really is a veritable Tesla Coil of joy. I'd love to insert an Edison reference here, but that'd require a visit to Wikipedia and that's just no fun on an iPhone screen. But really, joyfulness.
Jeff:I love that imagery! I know you would also love for that power of mine to increase and spread. Do you know any high-powered art directors with huge budgets and a lack of good sense in your part of the world? Because if you did, you could maybe arrange an introduction. The world needs me. The more people that know about my iPhone drawings the more peace and harmony we will have. I really can do that for the world. I mean, forget Tom Cruise and his Scientology, I'm pretty sure me plus an iPhone is the answer. So, art directors and introductions. Can you hook me up?
Amanda:While I'd say there is definitely no dearth of high-powered art directors who combine huge budgets with an utter lack of good sense in my part of the world, I sadly must admit that I don't know any of them personally. I mean, except for that one time that I SWEAR I saw Joel Schumacher walking down the street but when I yelled, "Mister Schumacher! Mister Schumacher! Didn't you direct 'Batman and Robin', Mister Schumacher?", he hissed at me and ran away muttering something about nippled rubber suits and codpieces. Wait, do you think that maybe your brilliance could be expanded upon by the addition of nippled rubber suits and codpieces? Because that would be pretty awesome.
Jeff:I'm shuffling awkwardly now. The thing is, in the Christian world only televangelists get the rubber nipples and codpieces. Lowly children's pastors like me have to stick to cargo shorts and God-themed T-shirts. But let's stop talking about me, shall we? Let's talk about you. It goes without saying that you adore every single one of the 48 Twillustrations™ that I’ve done, but what would you say is your most tinglingly exciting favourite -- the one that unexpectedly took your breath away?
Amanda:Oh, now don't be bashful. You'll be sporting your own set of rubberized nips soon enough. I have to admit that I have a weakness for the Twillustrations in which you take creative liberties and introduce topics the original tweet author would probably have never conceived of, because obviously he/she couldn't possibly be as brilliant, awesome, and quietly twisted as you. For instance, the toilet pirate/shower ninja Twillustration. You found a way to insert both PIRATES and NINJAS into a tweet that mentioned neither of those things. Random insertion of pirates and ninjas = You are my hero.
Jeff:If I didn't know how true that was, I would be tempted to say you were buttering me up to get me to make your prize drawing a bit extra special. No need to worry about that, Amanda. No need to worry. Even the marks I make in the sand as I walk along the beaches of North Wales are extra special. The imprints of the tines of my fork in my mashed potatoes are extra special. The very turbulence in the air created by my breath is extra special. How could your drawing be anything but extra special? No, don't answer that. We know the truth: It couldn't. And with that calm note of reassurance still lingering in your mind, I want to thank you for proving yourself a worthy winner of my glorious bequest.