I have a love-hate relationship with Twitter.

As I write these words, I have deliberately quit out of the app on my laptop so that I don’t have the temptation to toggle over to it, indulging an eight-second distraction between typed lines of this book review.

It’s also freakin’ hilarious at times.

But I also know that it’s a RT-laden, hashtag-driven, self-indulgent miasma that I will certainly get sucked into if I’m not careful.

Since January 2018, the compromise that I have struck with myself is that I allow myself access to Twitter (and other social media, too) in very limited doses.

Said another way, he’s a heady mix of Jason Bourne and Bruce Wayne with a taste for three fingers of tequila and Korean porn stars.

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