Saturday, 26 February 2011

Too legit to twit


I shut my twitter account down recently, I cant really think of a single reason why I did it, but the main one was the fact that it played up to the horrible mostly hateful cynical bastard, and the errant shit throwing monkey which both exist in my head, both things I could kind of do without at the moment. I've been literally haunted at work by ideas for hash tags and getting well into them when they took off, and stupid thoughts that I felt I should share immediately with anyone that would listen on there. I'd even tweeted from the toilet at work on several occasions for fuck sake, sometimes even describing the act itself, sometimes tweeting from my desk while busy doing work stuff, snorting as I typed, then cursing the absolute shackles of only having 140 characters, having to strip down and remove most of the semblance of why I thought it was funny in the first place, sometimes nearly resorting to text speak to fit things in...

I also didn't like the fact that it gave me an ideal forum to say usually horrible things about people and poke a stick through the cages of the afflicted. If I said to people directly the things I would have tweeted about them, I would be much more punched that I am now.

My twitter day would generally start at about 8.15 at the train station hating on Southern Trains, don't get me wrong, there is plenty to hate (they really are a chandelier of shit), but the whole sharing the woe thing was getting me down, I couldn't bring myself to say things like, “Oh, what a lovely sun rise over London”, and I do think that a lot, but to be honest, I'd rather share my breakfast with someone in the manner of a seagull regurgitating directly into their mouth than fart out sanctimonious pleasantries like some fair trade enthusing Earthy fucknut.

I'd also observe and share my thoughts on OCD man, a painful looking old fart who would amble to the same spot every morning and attempt to board the train at the same time every day and get the same seat. I would make it my mission to disrupt him, primarily just to share with twitter folk, several train tweets later, usually about other passengers, I would arrive at work, sometimes tweeting as I walked along the Thames, all this while I was going through John Woo type slow motion sequences in my mind of opening up with an assault rifle on all the elements of life that I hate.

The evenings would be the worse, subjecting my eyes and ears to the worst of the worst on the box, providing my own commentary on what is essentially our main broadcast medium seemingly suffering from a form of televisual bowel cancer, mocking its weak efforts tweet by tweet, the adulation and retweets egging me on like a bully in a fight. Then would come the moments when I would inadvertently cause offence with an errant side swipe at skin disorders or some fuck faced celeb or some way of thinking, or having a pop at some shit that means something to someone or other. Planning my evening on sitting in front of a TV and computer nay saying while gulping beer or wine just started to feel wrong.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to paint myself out as a sensitive soul that strives to go through life on egg shells, far from it, but I just don't need the distraction and to give that side of myself the audience that it secretly craves, it just makes you focus on the negative things in life. I am a very negative person and I'm struggling at the moment, there is lots about life at the moment which I dont like and would ideally like to be by a log fire somewhere with my “Bonnie Heather” no internet, chopping logs for the fire and tilling the land or some shit, pretty much the entire scene from Highlander before that big bald bloke comes and shoves a sword through Sean Connery and rapes the shit out of the girl.

I probably could have struggled on with the above, sifting through the metro for mocking material and flicking through TV watching reality TV and shit like Take me out, but on the Thursday morning I saw something that effectively killed my account, that fucking meerkat from the advert was not only on twitter, but had 10's of thousands of people following its fucking faux furry Borat bullshit. I hit delete account immediately, I could not share a space with that cunt, even if it is a cyber one.

Yes, I know its not a real meerkat, but I just cant get the image out of my head of the circle jerk of marketing cunts that come up with that concept and it turning out to be a “winner” and now the obligatory ripping the arse out of it. They are all probably getting blow jobs right now while doing cocaine, living off that little furry fucker, there is probably about 8 of them, the beast itself is probably watching the whole spectacle from a mound of earth while the go compare man sits in the corner, beating his tiny semi flacid cock off, pulling vinegars on a high note of the word compere, the whole group of them falling into a sweaty self congratulatory post fuck cig fest at the end of it, all high fiving before going to sleep, proud of their efforts and sleeping soundly for 8 hours, waking up with new ideas of how to annoy the living shit out of people and prosper for it, not one of them dying in fire as they should, while men dressed in leather trench coats spray them with bulbs of jif lemon as they burn, laughing in monotone.. (PS, I would buy any product that was endorsed by burning marketing people, just putting that idea out there)

Since going “cold twurky” I have struggled at times, its only been a few days but the fact that I have been reaching for my phone several times a day only to remember my “twittercide”, slowly putting the phone back down and reflecting on what I would have tweeted, it has mostly been negative simply proving I was kind of addicted. I do miss some of the people on there too, I'd somehow managed to amass 3000 followers and felt quite attached to come of them, I might come back one day, but I'm not sure. I HATED twitter when it first came out, because of the whole 140 characters thing, if someone made a site called two-witter, or twowittwo or something else indicating that it was about 300 characters I'd like that more. You may well stumble across me on there one day with no following, no followers, just rambling/ranting to the world with nobody to listen, that would be a fairer reflection of my life, the crazy drunk in the park.

Anyway, I shall be using this blog as my means to vent my spleen at the world and hope to getting the time to focus on some deep and meaningful blogs such as some of the other stuff on here...

Laters

The piss artist formally known as @blogstrop

(Fade out to the music form the littlest hobo)


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