Dear Monet Sunbeam Ladychief Weir-Monster,
Hi. How are you? I’m fine. Did you see Joker? It sure wasn’t a joke how he danced down those stairs! How is Instagram going for you? I see you have not yet been hired to endorse Bang! Energy Drinks, and that makes me happy. You are better than Bang! Energy Drinks, Monet. Maybe Fashion Nova or KO Watches, but not Bang! Energy Drinks.
Anyhoo, I see that you are now branching out from the ‘Gram to Twitter, and I humbly offer up some small pieces of advice that I pray with all my heart you will not respond to with “OK Boomer.” (Oh, by the way: Could you film yourself saying “OK Boomer” to your dad and then let us all see it? It would be the greatest Christmas present ever.) Feel free to imitate the rest of the world and ignore me, but please know that I want only the best for you, even though “the best” is not a concept on Twitter, as it is an untended compost heap of journalists, Nazis, Kpop fans, and roaming swarms of artificially semi-intelligent Russian bots.
My first piece of advice is this: Don’t. Stay on Instagram. Twitter rewires your brain. Young lady, I’m gonna tell you a little secret: Twitter has made me love Donald Trump. Every single day, usually before I’ve even gotten out of bed, that suckfaced nincompoop does a new moronic thing that Twitter can meme about and lampoon in every which way, and it fills me with glee. I tell myself that he’s enabling a takeover of the Judiciary that will fuck up the country for decades to come, and then he fucks up handing out candy to trick-or-treaters and I think about voting for him in 2020. This does not happen in other mediums. Reading books about the current administration takes me forever, as I generally fling the volume across the room in fury once a chapter or so. The sight of him on teevee makes me switch the channel. But on Twitter, I open the app daily hoping he’s broken another law, because on Twitter he’s not the greatest threat to our republic since the Civil War, he’s Doofus Grandpa. That is a pernicious modality of thought, and Twitter does it to you.
Second: seriously, don’t. Monet, I hate to do this, but it’s for your own good.
See that bullshit? You’re gonna attract that. It’s not an “if,” it’s a “when.” Worse than Instagram, right? You just see the text of the comment over there, but Twitter’s got avatars. I’m trying to put myself in your shoes. My dad wasn’t even a little famous, and if someone tweeted at me with his picture as their avatar and demanded I show them my balls, my day would be ruined. I would need to lie in a darkened room for a good long while, but maybe you’re made of stronger stuff.
If you refuse to apply good sense and run screaming, then at least remember the following:
It’s so much easier to piss off Twitter than you think it is. I once got yelled at by dozens of people for pointing out the fact that the Disco Biscuits only sound good when you’re on drugs, and even then only specific drugs in near-lethal quantities.
Never engage with randos Earlier today, you were kind enough to respond to my little joke welcoming you to Twitter. BIG MISTAKE, MISSY! Look where we are now: I’m writing you a thousand-fucking-word letter. You’re gonna get Deadhead Reply Guys; do not encourage them. They WILL try to slide into your DMs.
Consider learning drums and forming a metal band with Grahame Lesh and Wolfgang Van Halen. That’s not Twitter-related, but I wanted to include it. You guys would rock, and I think a cool name would be Sins Of The Fathers. That would be metal as fuck.
Don’t talk your dad into taking over his account. Bobby–that’s what we call him around here–has a Twitter account, but he doesn’t run it. His feed is 80% promotional and 20% workouts, and all of it is ghosted for him by his social media manager. We don’t get your father’s raw and unmediated thoughts five or ten times a day, and that is the way it should stay. Even if you start having a ball on Twitter, don’t make it seem like too much fun in front of him.
Don’t be racist. Although, you know: that should go without saying. I am not in any way accusing you of being racist, I’m just saying that if in the near future you decide to become racist, don’t do it on Twitter.
Watch for red flags. Ironically, one of the biggest Twitter red flag is an American flag. You see an American flag emoji in the handle, run. Anime character as an avatar? Run very fast. The initials “JRE” in the bio? Sprint. Conversely, anyone announcing their pronouns is trying to trick you into cancelling yourself.
In conclusion, be careful and be smart and be safe and think about the heavy metal band idea. I know a guy who could be your manager. Do you know Benjy Eisen?
Sincerely,
The King of the Deadhead Reply Guys
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