Gather around twatwaffles....

It's time for a little blog meeting.  So I'd like you to pull out your best booze, your creative cursing book if you have one, and take a seat.  I need some input from you whore flaps.  I know, I've got a grand total of 22 followers and a whopping 8 posts (not including this one), but we need to talk.

First, I'd like to point out a few things:

1. The header of this blog says Twitarded Con 2010.
2. The url of this blog is www.twitardedcon2010.blogspot.com 
   
3. Other than this post.  There is fuck all about said Twitarded Con 2010.

You can see this leaves me in an awkward position (that's what she said).  My lil blog that I never intended to post much else other than about us getting together, apparently has morphed into something else.  I didn't actually realize I'd have more to say other than what I posted in the Twitarded comments or on Twitter.  In hindsight, it was kinda a stupid fucking name to start with in the first place. I'm not sure what kind of crack I was on that day - but apparently it was the good shit.  So now, I need a name change as bad as I need a change of underwear after viewing GQ Rob. And when I mean name change, I mean the whole fucking thing, URL and all. 

Now before you get your panties in a bunch, this doesn't mean that I'm giving up on the idea of Twitards of the world uniting in some form around the time Eclipse comes out.  I just don't think I can make an entire fucking blog about it.

This is where you people come in.  I need some suggestions for a new name, and I'm even willing to throw in a prize to boot! I think the only criteria is that it has Twi-swears, Twi-swearstoofuckingmuch, or some variation, is somewhere in the title, and that a google search isn't going to direct a Woody Allen type here. Well, that and I want to do it soon.

The prize?

1. My undying gratitude.
2. I'll never swear at you again*.
3. I'll knit/crochet you something.  We're not talking mittens and scarves here.  Maybe you'd like a cupcake? Your sparkle peen need a discrete holder? Is your mini-e cold? Does he need a sweater? You've got the pervy/bizzaro ideas, I've got the wool.

Well, folks, that's all. Throw those suggestions in the comments!

*Well - I promise to really really try not to swear at you. Subject to change due to PMS, unforeseen circumstances, and cause I feel like it.  Offer not valid if you're a moron.

Twi-stfm is outed.

So - I'm out of the closet. No, not THAT closet.

The twitarded closet.

It all started rather innocently a few weeks ago when I was home from work at lunch time. I got a notice that there was a package for me at the post office that I had to go pay duty on. I squeed right in the lobby and earned a few "what-the-fuck-is-up-with-that-chick?" looks from an old lady with a walker. So because I have impulse control issues - I left home early, forked over some dough to the Canadian government, and picked up my long sleeved twitarded shirt that I ordered during this whole debacle. I ripped open the package right there in the parking lot, squeed and then drove back to work.

Then I showed it to my coworkers.

Twi-stfm "Hey look what I got in the mail guys!"

Non-twitarded coworker "Umm...that's nice...what the fuck is it?"*

Twi-stfm "What I'm wearing when we all go to New Moon!!"

Non-twitarded coworker "Umm...that's nice...what the fuck is it?"*

Insert conversation here wherein I blab about how funny and fuckawesome Twitarded is.

Non-twitarded coworker, looking at me like I'm somewhat demented "Umm...that's nice."

THAT should have been my hint right THERE that my co-workers weren`t Twitarded kind of people.

So fast forward to this week. The office is all in a frenzy 'cause there's like 30 of us going to see New Moon. Two things happened:

1) A woman at work got her first laptop and I directed her to Twitarded. She`s actually got a sense of humour so she`ll probably like it. I`m not sure she'll do anything but lurk, but at least I might now be able to say "Did ya see that last post from JJ/STY? Fucking hillarious!" That or she'll think I'm demented for liking it.

2) I had to put up with Superfan. Let's name her....um...I dunno Superfan. Superfan is a great co-worker, but is WAY over the top when it comes to Twilight. She's always the one updating us with the latest news, what they're filming now, where Rob is in the world, and she's so fucking fanatical about it. You can't say ANYTHING bad about the precious.

"Did you see those Cannes pictures of the Precious?"

So Superfan has been in all a tizzy this week with organizing our lil outing. She can hardly fucking contain herself. There were a few times when I thought she was going to spontaneously combust into flames from watching all the RPattz interviews.

We were discussing what exactly she was going to after New Moon was over. Her answer? After she finishes planning a new moon dvd release party, she was going to start planning our Eclipse outing.

And that's when I opened my big fucking mouth and said "Yeah, I might be going with some other people from Twitarded somewhere instead of you guys." She was shocked and well, outraged.

"What do you MEAN!??! You don't want to see the precious without me! Smeagol is VERY UPSET!"

So yesterday, we were all standing around teasing her about being in a tizzy again. She literally couldn't concentrate on work. If I had had valium in a spray mister form - I'd have been spritzing her constantly just to calm her the fuck down. She was that over the top. Example? She was planning a game for us to play during dinner. In a nice but busy restaurant. During my steak dinner where I only want to concentrate on meaty goodness.

And then it happened, I apparently went a tad too far in my teasing and provoked the beast. She then morphed from Gollum into, well, a rabid dog in about 2 seconds flat.

Yup - pretty much just like that.

Her response? "Yeah, well, you're just as bad as I am about twilight stuff. You're going with some friends from twitter to see Eclipse."

My co-workers looked at me, horrified. I looked at her horrified. I managed to sputter out a "Yeah, well, it's a blog, not twitter. And it's not for sure. And-I-might-be-going-camping-with-my-husband-that-weekend-anyways." I think they believed me. Superfan - not so much.

So now, I don't think I'm going to wear my twitarded shirt to our outing. I just don't want to deal with people that don't have a sense of humour. It`s not that I`m ashamed of my Twitardedness - I just think they won`t get it. Also, I have to travel with Superfan to our outing as we're carpooling for 30 min. Help!

Don't think that this is what she's wearing. But it's what she needs.

Do you have a Superfan in your life? How the fuck to you deal with them? Do you have any non-twitarded twilight fans? Have your conversion of twilight fans to twitarded fans ever gone awry? Should I wear my shirt or just save it for my next screening of the movie when I'm going solo?

*Okay, she didn't ACTUALLY swear. But I'm re-telling the story and we all know I swear too fucking much.

Oh hai there!

Right, so I'm addressing all you twat waffles for a reason.

You guys are a bunch of funny bitches and I want to meet all you crazy gals in person. For reals. And I want to go watch Eclipse and squee together. I want to get drunk with you twitards cause I strongly suspect that MAJOR chaos could ensue and I like that idea.

So I'm dipping my baby toe into the blogosphere to see what your thoughts are. Should we make Twitarded Con 2010 happen? Where do you want to hang out? Should we do one location or hold simultaneous Twitard Cons (east coast, west coast, etc)? What else would you want to see at a Twitarded Con (apart from the obvious that I've mentioned) And last but not least - what's your fav kind of drink? No really. I'm thinking we might have to warn whatever hotel we're going to desecend on to start stocking up.

Leave your thoughts in the comments...