I Tweet Therefore I Twat

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking… it’s like Shakespeare never left us, right? Ahem.

I started a Twitter account back in October last year. It was partly initiated by my desire to board up the windows on the creepingly insidious Big Brother machinations of Facebook. My first Tweet on 8th October 2011 was inspired thusly:

“I is here now. I is also there. But not F*c*book. It is the devil’s cheese. This place stop waffle much. Think about edit. No use long word.”

As someone with an built-in tendency for waffle, I’ve since found the 140 character limit and interesting exercise in achieving brevity! It’s read by virtually nobody, of course; quite possibly half as many as will read this. And the number of people reading this would probably require an advert to recruit additional places for my WordPress 5-a-side football team!

Anyhoo… I thought I’d indulge my Tumblr feed with a Top Ten pick of my thought [edited to within an inch of their understanding] Tweets:

“I actually saw some bees knees today. And, must be said, I’m not
entirely sure what all the fuss is about?”

“They say the squid is an intelligent animal. And yet, despite having
all that ink on tap, none have written so much as a single word.”

“Thought I was scrunching through the freshly laid sharp frost. Realised
I was still indoors and there was a hole in bottom of cereal box!”

“The News: Death. Death. Death. Debt. Dead. Misery. Death. Death.
Destruction. Death. Tragedy. Dead. Funny animal story. Have a nice day.”

“Why would anyone need to buy the magazine Psychic News?”

“Willow dropped his stick in the fast flowing river tonight. Gone. I
keep telling him, it’s not like they grow on trees!”

“If you peeled back the skin of a giraffe, would you find a zebra inside
with a periscope?”

“It’s hammering down with rain. You drive under a bridge. Everything
seemingly goes quiet for a moment. There should be a name for that.”

“I just had a long-life light bulb die on me. That can’t be a good sign,
eh? I may need some form of therapy.”

“I’m just nipping out to the cornershop on Kepler 22-b to get some milk.
I’ll be back in about 1200 years.”

Words scattered to the four winds of the electronic ether and devoured by the accidental Twitter tourist who may’ve stumbled across them, much like our superior race may one day discover the Earth. “Is that it?” And the metaphorical saloon doors swing shut again as they return into the dusty spectral twilight accompanied by cosmic tumbleweed…

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