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Everyone knows the true measure of a man is his following:followers ratio on Twitter. When a girl sees a dude rocking a negative ratio, or “neg raysh,” as some of us deeply embedded in the tweet game call it, she gets drier than one of my signature lotion-less “Fap Friday” nights in front of the computer.
Girls love Twitter, and I love girls. So, by the transitive property, which states that we must love what the girls love in order to achieve personal sexual gain, I too love Twitter. Especially hashtags. My love for the good ol’ # made me as happy as a GDI who was just picked first in a pickup game of ultimate frisbee when I heard this news:
“Hashtag” was voted as the word of the year during the American Dialect Society annual voting session earlier this month.
I don’t know what kind of person is a member of the American Dialect Society, I’m not even entirely sure I know the actual definition of the word dialect, but what I do know is that these guys know what they’re doing when it comes to voting on words. Hashtag is, rightly, the word of the year. And I’m not saying this just because hashtags help me pick up girls. No, I’m saying it because of the awareness it has raised for the #KONY2012, and now, #KONY2013 movements. I’ve been slaving away at my keyboard for months upon months letting people know about our efforts to catch Joseph Kony and what they can do to help. Thanks in large part to the hashtag, we are that much closer to stopping this awful man.
But I guess not all of us want a nice, peaceful planet. Some people like the idea of child soldier-bearing warlords, as I can only assume University of Florida freshman Daniel Harrison does based on what he had to say about the hashtag’s recent success:
YOLO should have been the word of the year because it blew up and died down in 2012.
C’mon, Danny. Don’t try to justify picking YOLO as the word of the year with that BS. We all know you want YOLO to be word of the year because you fucking rage, and you want everyone to know it. I can see it now. You start day drinking early. Why? YOLO. You shotgun beers because YOLO. You chase shots by screaming “YOLOOOOOOO!” and when you are asked the next morning, after waking up in a pile of your own vomit, about why you ingested the used condom that caused you to puke, all you have to say is “YOLO.”
Sorry, Danny Boy, but there is only one place that YOLO is acceptable, and that’s after a hashtag.
Let’s take a look at some more of the details here:
Word of the year runners-up included YOLO, fiscal cliff, Gangnam style, and marriage equality.
So this means it pretty much came down to five choices for the American Dialect Society to vote on.
YOLO, which, I’m sorry to say Danny, is an acronym, not a word. If you don’t believe me, try to play it in Words With Friends.
Fiscal cliff. Which is two words.
Gangnam style. Which is two words.
Marriage equality. Which is two words.
And then Hashtag. Which is one word.
Danny, Danny, Danny. Next time you want to support a word in it’s campaign for word of the year, make sure it’s, y’know, a word.
Image via TeachThought