Since I once again have no decent questions to answer (except for you Thomas McCloud, I’ll get to you shortly) I figure it’s a perfect day for a diatribe.

Let’s discuss Twitter. Never one to shirk technology (maybe I had a Palm Pilot) I joined because Aviva invited me. I held off for a few months trying to figure out what the hell it was but I failed miserably so I signed up anyway. Hey creators of Twitter, did you invent this to make me sort of despise 80% of my friends? So that any shred of mystery surrounding celebrities is removed and replaced with their idiotic or boring or flat out fucking crazy ramblings (I’m talking to you @courtneylover79)? So that I spend my day riddled with anxiety because this evil application keeps demanding to know what I am doing? Guess what! I’m not doing anything remotely interesting. Guess what! That you think the fact that you had a delicious pesto sandwich on foccaccia bread for lunch is interesting makes me HATE you. Guess what else! I don’t care about your daily twittascope and I seriously doubt anyone else does.

It’s not all bad I guess. There are some funny, clever, interesting Twits (Tweets? Twats? Whatever) out there but they are drowned out by a sea of unnecessarily public conversations (why don’t you @everyfamouspersonyouknow because it makes you look SUPER COOL), inappropriately emotional declarations (you’re sad? maybe making yourself look pathetic to an audience will help!), and banal real-time updates of TV watching/location changes/partying. And even worse than seeing it once is people RETWEETING all of it until your eyes are bleeding from the spiraling quicksand flesh eating virus that is Twitter.

That being said, I’m still on it because apparently I’m a hypocritical stuck-up bitch. And because even though I never used to like him, @Real_Ron_Artest is kind of fucking hilarious.

The end.

xx
@yasfx