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Why did the bird get in trouble with its parents? It was caught tweeting after bedtime.
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My friend asked me to stop impersonating a flamingo. I had to put my foot down... on the tweet button!
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How do you organize a fantastic space party? You planet... on your Twitter feed!
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I told my computer to make a Twitter account for me. It responded, 'Sorry, I'm not your social media manager.
I'm pretty sure the 'mute' button on Twitter was designed as a modern-day superhero power to protect our sanity.
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Twitter's a wild place. You get these keyboard warriors who think they're the Avengers of opinions, and the only way to survive is to master the art of the mute button. It's like having your own personal bouncer in a club, except this bouncer kicks out annoying tweets instead of rowdy club-goers.
I'm convinced Twitter was invented by someone who thought, 'You know what this world needs? A platform where strangers can argue about grammar.'
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I mean, on Twitter, you could be debating global warming with a scientist, and then suddenly, someone swoops in to correct your spelling of 'their.' It's like a spelling bee mixed with a TED Talk, but instead of applause, you get passive-aggressive replies and a sudden urge to recheck your elementary school grammar book.
Twitter is the one place where you can experience FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and JOMO (Joy of Missing Out) at the same time.
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Twitter's a paradox. You log in, see everyone having the time of their lives, and suddenly, you're hit with FOMO. But then, after an hour of scrolling, you realize you're missing out on arguments about avocado toast and celebrity drama, and that's when JOMO kicks in. Ah, the thrill of not being involved in certain chaos!
I've come to terms with the fact that on Twitter, my life story could be summarized as 'Started with high hopes, ended up arguing with a bot.'
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I mean, Twitter's a place where you start off sharing wisdom and end up in a debate with an AI bot that insists the Earth is flat. It's like playing chess with a pigeon - no matter how good you are, the bird's just gonna knock over the pieces and strut around like it won.
Twitter's like a battleground where words are the weapons. It's the only place where you can start a war and finish it with a hashtag.
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Let me tell you, I love Twitter. It's the only place where people go to share their 280-character wisdom, and somehow end up needing therapy after a tweetstorm. You ever seen someone start a tweet with 'I'm just gonna say this once,' and then proceed to say it 17 times more? It's like a verbal Groundhog Day!
Twitter's the place where you can have a deep philosophical discussion about the meaning of life and still get interrupted by a thread on the best way to peel a banana.
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I swear, on Twitter, you start off discussing politics, and suddenly you're in a heated debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. It's like a roller coaster ride of emotions - one minute, you're contemplating the mysteries of the universe, and the next, you're embroiled in a passionate argument about whether a hotdog is a sandwich.
I've realized that Twitter is like a buffet - a lot of options, but you'll probably end up regretting what you picked.
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You ever scroll through Twitter and feel like you've entered a never-ending buffet line? You think you want a bit of everything, but then you end up with a plate full of regrets and indigestion. It's a digital smorgasbord where you leave feeling simultaneously stuffed and empty.
Twitter's the only place where you can share your thoughts with the world and get back replies that make you question your own existence.
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I've tweeted about my love for pizza, and somehow ended up in a heated debate about the theory of relativity. You think you're dropping some profound knowledge, and the replies you get back make you wonder if you accidentally opened a portal to a parallel universe where people speak in cryptic emoji codes.
They should rename Twitter to 'Conspiracy Theory Central.' It's where facts go to take a vacation.
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I swear, on Twitter, everyone's an expert. You could tweet about the sky being blue, and suddenly, you've got a reply thread on how the government's hiding the truth about the sky's real color. It's like a choose-your-own-adventure book, except every path leads to a conspiracy theory.
I tweeted something funny last week, and it got two retweets. Both from my mom. It's good to know I have a fan base of one.
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Twitter's like a comedy club, except it's filled with hecklers who've mastered the art of typing insults in 280 characters or less. You think you've crafted the perfect joke, but all you get is the sound of digital crickets. I'm convinced my best tweets are in some secret folder labeled 'Top-Secret: For Your Eyes Only' by the Twitter algorithm.
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