I feel as though I have been writing a lot lately about things that I think are funny that I said or posted on Twitter. This week is no exception. It’s about something funny that I said at breakfast that Jennifer tweeted to her masses of Twitter followers. Am I repentant for all of this Twittery? No, in fact I’m leaning into it. Just how far am I leaning in?
Breaking Blog News:
Dearest and Gentlest of Readers,
In an effort to jazz up this newsletter and make it more hip and happenin’, I am changing the name of this blog from Too Early Old, Too Late Smart to the snappy Hey Y’all, Do You Want to See the Funny Thing I Said (or Posted) on Twitter?
This is effective immediately and irrevocably.
As soon as I post this I am going to Google Domains and registering heyyalldoyouwanttoseethefunnythingisaidorpostedontwitter dot com. If it’s available. I was originally going to change the name of the blog to, Hey Y’all, Do You Want to See the Funny Thing I Said (or Posted) on Twitter Last Week?, but I did not want my droll Twitter wisdom to be shackled to only tweets from the prior week, plus Hey Y’all, Do You Want to See the Funny Thing I Said (or Posted) on Twitter Last Week? is not nearly as snappy as Hey Y’all, Do You Want to See the Funny Thing I Said (or Posted) on Twitter?.
I’ve got great news, y’all—it’s available!
And only $12!
One thing I will say, heyyalldoyouwanttoseethefunnythingisaidorpostedontwitter dot com is way cheaper than toolatesmart dot com.
In honor of consumerism, capitalism, and Black Friday, Cyber Monday, ConsumptionWednesday, and Bargain Sunday, I’m also going to start really leaning into making merchandise for the newly revamped site. How far am I leaning into merch?
Here is the first mockup of the site’s official t-shirt. Front:
Back:
I pride myself in being honest with my readers, so I should probably let you know that I’m pulling your collective leg(s). I swear that I would never change the name of this blog.
Because:
A. I don’t know how.
B. “Bronc, I’m too early old, too late smart,” was one of my beloved Grandpa Noah’s favorite phrases, and every time I write a post, I remember him and that warms my heart a little. Plus, the phrase really sums up a lot about who I am and what I am trying to do with myself and this blog. Even if I don’t always know what direction I want to go with it.
C. Finding out how to change the name just reeks of effort, which is completely against my whole “don’t be caught trying or caring” Gen X ethos.
This is absolutely not true. Gen Xers like myself, care about a lot of things, but the things we find ourselves caring about is usually a mystery even to us. Witness the swing dancing craze of the late nineties. That fad can be blamed mostly, but not entirely, on the indie movie Swingers.
If the image below, of the pivotal dance scene in Swingers is too grainy looking or distorted, I apologize. It is a screencap that I got from YouTube. For reasons that I don’t feel like explaining right now, my default browser is Microsoft Edge and my search engine is Bing. I looked up ‘swingers dance scene’ on a Bing image search.
Do not look up ‘swingers dance scene’ on a Bing image search.
Trust me.
Google Images is o.k., but Bing is all about showing you pictures of a completely different kind of swinger than these hepcats.
I liked this film when I saw it back in the day. Full disclosure: I really loved it. Thank goodness the goofiest of hipster threads from that movie did not come in big boy sizes. But I did what I could with my limited selection and limited budget and started dressing like an asshole. I learned as much swing dancing as can be expected from a fat kid who grew up Church of Christ. I definitely started lighting my smokes with a Zippo and putting a bunch of shit in my hair. I also added a lot of annoying wannabe Rat Pack lingo to my vernacular. Telling all my coo-coo pallies to go see this crazy, really gone picture called Swingers. I was already an insufferable edgelord in 1996—this new way of speaking and dressing can only have made my insufferable manner truly toxic. But I can only blame the movie for about 8-12% of my overall grating persona in this era. The remainder of my irritating personality could probably be blamed on reading too much Bukowski and my refusal to stay on my bipolar meds.
I don’t think that the movie (or me) has aged particularly well. That said, it will be a good film to watch in twenty years to understand what it was like to be a young man in the mid-nineties.
Like this guy, reading a book in the green room of a community college theatre. All made up for a musical revue featuring music of the 40s and 50s. The year was 1998, and the revue was called Swing:
Thank you for the little journey into 1990s pop culture. Also, please ignore that I did not in fact post anything that I posted or said on Twitter. That is coming next week—CLIFFHANGER!!! In the links below I have added my TikTok. I only have one TikTok up right now, but I’m planning to use it much more in the New Year.
Thank you, as always, for reading.
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