Mr. P's reply history at Help.com

Proof’s in the pudding. Just sayin’. :-P

Snar, you’re like the greatest thing since sliced bread. Trying to be more awesome is just overkill.

I think one of the worst feelings is that of going through torment alone. Solidarity almost adds an entire level of anguish to already desperate situations, so having someone there . . . knowing someone is there through the sensory storm of a hug must be comforting. It keeps one’s mind from wandering too far from the path of sanity.

I must be magic or something.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jehova_w…

Yeah, it’s okay. They own me, but they don’t use me.

Google already owns the world; it doesn’t need to pander with your silly information.

We are incredibly similar Snar, haha. Maybe you’re me from the future, sent back to make contact. 0_o

It’s good to have you around again too.

Let me tell you a story, Snar.

Once upon a time I fell in love. Or maybe love fell onto me. I don’t know which it was, but that’s not important; the simple fact is that one day, I woke up. I woke up lost in a deep, dark, and terrifying ocean, drowning, Snar. I had a single, warm breath in my lungs though, and with that breath I called to my dearest, and she came to me. And we were happy. I was happy. Nothing mattered but the two of us; the darkness of abyssal depth surrounding us was no longer threatening, but instead lost in our own glow–our own light. Like any candle though, the light of our perfectness slowly dimmed, and as it dimmed I could feel the coldness of reality again, creeping in at my ankles. The luminosity grew less and less, until one day the darkness filled every inch of space around me. The silence was eerie. I had gone back in time: back to the beginning, where I was alone again; back to drowning. When I opened my eyes, she was gone, the indents from her touch still buried in my arm, and there I was left with only the echoing sound of my heartbeat to fill the void. Tears mixed with the dead water around me, drying the ducts of my eyes against a watery towel. And soon there was nothing. For a long time there was nothing. And it was in this nothingness that I found myself, walking along the black space leading to nothingness. This became the world that I now understand: the world in which I live. The pain stopped after my head cleared, and thus I am finally in nearly total tranquility. Nearly, for the echo of my heartbeat travels on, and I fear it will never cease. I fear it, and yet I love it. It keeps me from losing hope in that comforting life of years gone past; it keeps me from dying, Snar.

Love lost is a horrific world, but one worth discovering, for a new, fantastic world lies just beyond. Don’t get sidetracked too long though, Snar, or you may end up with your arms outstretched, reaching for the light eternally, as I have. I have confidence in you.

Back in black.

Life is only beautiful if you ignore the ugliness.

The odds are so astronomically high that somewhere in this hugely vast universe there is other intelligent life I have to say that yes, there must be “aliens” out there somewhere. Will we ever meet any? No, probably not. :-)

This post deserves a medal.

Well, to be honest I think your first priority should be paying off that ticket. Do you have anything you could pawn off for the money? Only after that was taken care of would I start fresh.

Love feels like coronary fireworks and cranial boiling, and it is fantastic. It is higher than any high and flutters like a buzzing hummingbird in your entire being. Love feels like a timeless movie that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time, yet you do neither. It is greater than any other emotion but more painful than any equable state, for when love ends, racking pain begins. Left to die, wrapped in cellophane on the side of the road with nothing to feel but your lungs suffocating from sadness. Chocked with tears and torn by welling darkness, these are the things you feel when love crashes and burns, smoking itself into the indigo night.

Since the common verb is tweeting, not, “twittering,” I have to say the answer is tweeted. However, if you do use twittering as the verb, then you have just twittered.