An inept superhero begs for money to save the world. All while he tries to balance his lab rebuilding, police evasion and hero activities.
Every so often, someone (usually a man) sends me a casual tweet asking why he can’t retweet me. Of course, the obvious answer is that my account is locked—a tiny optional blessing of Twitter’s functionality that means I’m not searchable to the world outside. The more complex answer relates to why my account is locked in the first place, why I would choose to keep people from reading my brilliant musings on 90’s teen movies, Rihanna’s latest video, or the myriad virtues of Magic Mike XXL. There. . .
Every so often, someone (usually a man) sends me a casual tweet asking why he can’t retweet me. Of course, the obvious answer is that my account is locked—a tiny optional blessing of Twitter’s functionality that means I’m not searchable to the world outside. The more complex answer relates to why my account is locked in the first place, why I would choose to keep people from reading my brilliant musings on 90’s teen movies, Rihanna’s latest video, or the myriad virtues of Magic Mike XXL. There. . .