Susan Orlean’s drunk tweets are the song of the summer

“Drunk.”

That was the opening salvo author and journalist Susan Orlean tweeted at 8:46 p.m. Friday.

Less than two hours later, she would be a top trend on Twitter.

“WHO IS SICK AND TIRED OF EVERYTHING,” Orlean announced during the course of a delightful no-holds-barred pandemic tweet storm. “I MEAN SERIOUSLY.”

Forget your crummy song of the summer. Susan Orlean just claimed that mantle for herself … and all of us.

A trip through her Friday night tweets brings more to the table than your average catchy tune or Netflix epic.

Whether giddy insults (”YeH whatever I hzte you too”) or gray despair (”life’s infinite tragedy”), her Twitter interlude had it all. Orlean’s timeline suddenly became the happening spot, on social media and off.

“Thank you for your support duri t this difficult time all misspellings are mine totally,” Orlean said in just her second tweet.

Yes, there would be misspellings, but that was only part of the charm of Orlean’s unrestrained Twitter diary.

Orlean, 64, a writer for The New Yorker and the bestselling author of “The Orchid Thief” — which was adapted for film in the 2002 movie “Adaptation,” and “The Library Book,” continued to supply A++ tweets for the homebound masses.

She was frank. She was unsparing. And, yes, as she would remind everyone, she was drunk.

“I’m sure my neighbors did not notice AT ALL that I was stumbling drunk leaving f the casual neighborhood get together f**k yeah,” she tweeted at 8:50 p.m.

Orlean was “in bed rolling arou d like a bug,” she said, as she started to reveal more about what happened at her neighbor’s house, which involved the birth of an animal.

“Seriously we went to my neighbors to see their newborn colt who was born like five mi utes ago and we had some wine,” she tweeted.

The rest of the story arrived in separate tweets that floated freely in replies, which were often accompanied by winking and smooching Susan Orlean Bitmoji-like reaction images. Susan Orlean does not have to care about threading her tweets. As she previously stated, she’s drunk — but she said so again for anyone not paying attention (at this point, many were rapt).

“Ok a newborn colt rocks it totally and he thought my hand was his mom,” she continued. “It was not. He has tasted life’s infinite tragedy. As I mentioned Earlier I am inebriated.”

“You guys,” she said, pressing on. “Do you tho k my neighbors think I’m a. never mind I’m going f to bed.”

From there, Orlean confided in New York Times reporter Maggie Haberman that she had a pre-hangover. Then it was on to business.

“You know I am currently trying to write a memoir and feel like a clown because WHO CARES ABOUR MY STUPID LIFE but maybe?” she tweeted. (As it turns out, plenty of people cared, especially in this drunk-tweeting moment.)

But look, a rare threaded moment:

“Maybe I am drinking too much during THE F***ING PANDEMIC,” Orlean tweeted.

“Buehler?” she replied. “Yes I am.”

From there, Orlean went on a quest for two essentials: her cat and sugar.

“I’m falling down drunk,” she said. “First time in ages. Where is my kitty? He is my drunk comfort animal.”

“I would like some candy,” she added, before giving an update on the cat search.

“BTW where exactly Is my f***ing cat whe I need him,” she wondered.

But her thoughts soon turned to another.

“Proud fo day my husband is super embarrassed by me,” Orlean said. “I just read this and shuddered.”

Then came the pièce de résistance:

“WHO IS SICK AND TIRED OF EVERYTHING,” Orlean tweeted. “I MEAN SERIOUSLY.”

“I am@being shunned by my family because I am drunk. Yes ok I am fine with that F*** YOU YOU F***ING F***ERS.”

But who would shun Susan Orlean, drunk or not? The whole of Twitter was devouring every fragment and misspelled word like tasty morsels.

“No one on my house is talking to me right now ok!!” Orlean said, fighting back: “YeH whatever I hzte you too … I do r e we. Know who is I my house.”

From there, she went to go “check on our recycling bin because.”

BECAUSE!

However, she had second thoughts. And she remembered about wanting the candy.

“F*** the recycling,” she said. “Going to look for candy which I bet doesn’t exists I. This house godd@@ Min it.”

“Godd@@ Min it” indeed.

She found something in the candy category … but was it, really? She had to know.

“We do ha e so@e weird candy coated fennel seeds,” Orlean said. “Is that f***ing candy?”

“I@had no idea I made yogurt today. Wow,” she offered in an aside. But the candy!

“Having I f the stupid fennel seed candy because I ha e no options,” she said, resigned to the snack.

About an hour later, it looked as if Orlean might actually call it a night.

“I am goi f to sleep,” she said at 11:04 p.m. “My husband has asked me five hundred rimes@if I am alright. That means it’s go to sleep o’clock.”

Not so fast. By 11:27, Orlean was back to dispel any notion that all those little nuggets of genius weren’t hers.

“I have SO NOT BEEN HACKED,” she said.

Can’t get enough? Here are most of Susan Orlean’s drunk pandemic tweets in all of their glory.

Don’t thank us if you have a better day because of them. Thank Susan Orlean. We’re off to get some candy-coated fennel seeds and check the recycling bin.

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Amy Kuperinsky may be reached at akuperinsky@njadvancemedia.com. Send a coronavirus tip here.

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