My apologies to Twitter and William Shatner

I was sold on Twitter when I realized it could help me stalk William Shatner. I saw Shatner once in person on a college trip to Montreal. The other English Honor Society geeks and I were there to see a stage production of "Twelfth Night" with our faculty adviser, Professor Byrd, in a bus a friend had dubbed The Byrdcage.

When Toni and I spotted Shatner, it was like the full force of a thousand 14-year-old girls had been unleashed on an unsuspecting Canadian populace. There was screaming. There was squealing. There were high-pitched cries of "IT'S WILLIAM SHATNER!"

The only thing that stopped us from running out and tackling him was that we were enormous weenies.

Hey, stop judging me! You saw how Kirk took out that Gorn. The Shatner is not to be trifled with.

I never imagined 50 people would be following me on Twitter. Fifty isn't a hell of a lot when you consider that Barack Obama has 2,530,372 followers, but it's about 45 more than I expected. Every once in awhile, it drops to 48 when a few people realize they accidentally followed me instead of Kid Rock.

So, my apologies to William Shatner for stalking him. And to everyone on Twitter for not being Kid Rock. I'll try harder.