Twit Musubi
I forgot how to write an LJ entry!
I went on to Twitter last night and learned that both Brent Spiner and Levar Burton twit like motherfuckers. They are so twittery, I nearly had a heart attack. How does one even begin to twit? It seems like people are holding conversations that last days and months, with only a snippet to keep the jaws whet. I found it strangely appealing at first, but then this raw, icky feeling began to gnaw at me when I realized that all these people are impulsively scattering their thought trains into bon mots of dubious certitude. I only found one twitterer who seemed to use the system to the best of its abilities.
But the internet can't have passed me by so quickly. Why, it seems like only yesterday that I was firing up the Facebook and updating my status with clever tidbits of nonsense, or perhaps little clues as to my current whereabouts and what I thought of the latest Transmorphers film. Now I just let the auto-update function tell my Facebook when I've rated a film on Netflix or listened to a song on Lala. God forbid I actually put text on there. Really it's only good to show the world that YES I AM DATING and WOW I AM MOST UNIQUE.
(Which are both true facts, true to life. Another true fact is the fact that Hawaiian Barbecue hithertofore had never entered my stomach through my mouth. This is a goddamned travesty, which was remedied only too recently with the consumption of 3 or 4 mixed plates and several gigantic spam musubi, which are well-approximated size-wise in this here pictograph:
Except now their size is quite diminished and most of their former selves have likely vacated my body via an internal ducting system I just had installed. HVAC, motherfucker. It's a drain.)
But now I see all this Samuel Twittridge going on and it's too fast for me. It's like a babbling brook of halitosized saliva (now let's discuss, would that be a cool thing to see or would it smell kindof nasty and be really gross to dip your feet into?)
We all joked about it when it was debuted and now it's here and now it's "changing the world," one star/-fucker at a time.
I need: a vacation, a dog, a Ph.D, an electronic cigarette, patience, a reading chair, a set of sturdier balls, Alpha Protocol, and amazing grace.
Thanks!
I went on to Twitter last night and learned that both Brent Spiner and Levar Burton twit like motherfuckers. They are so twittery, I nearly had a heart attack. How does one even begin to twit? It seems like people are holding conversations that last days and months, with only a snippet to keep the jaws whet. I found it strangely appealing at first, but then this raw, icky feeling began to gnaw at me when I realized that all these people are impulsively scattering their thought trains into bon mots of dubious certitude. I only found one twitterer who seemed to use the system to the best of its abilities.
But the internet can't have passed me by so quickly. Why, it seems like only yesterday that I was firing up the Facebook and updating my status with clever tidbits of nonsense, or perhaps little clues as to my current whereabouts and what I thought of the latest Transmorphers film. Now I just let the auto-update function tell my Facebook when I've rated a film on Netflix or listened to a song on Lala. God forbid I actually put text on there. Really it's only good to show the world that YES I AM DATING and WOW I AM MOST UNIQUE.
(Which are both true facts, true to life. Another true fact is the fact that Hawaiian Barbecue hithertofore had never entered my stomach through my mouth. This is a goddamned travesty, which was remedied only too recently with the consumption of 3 or 4 mixed plates and several gigantic spam musubi, which are well-approximated size-wise in this here pictograph:
Except now their size is quite diminished and most of their former selves have likely vacated my body via an internal ducting system I just had installed. HVAC, motherfucker. It's a drain.)
But now I see all this Samuel Twittridge going on and it's too fast for me. It's like a babbling brook of halitosized saliva (now let's discuss, would that be a cool thing to see or would it smell kindof nasty and be really gross to dip your feet into?)
We all joked about it when it was debuted and now it's here and now it's "changing the world," one star/-fucker at a time.
I need: a vacation, a dog, a Ph.D, an electronic cigarette, patience, a reading chair, a set of sturdier balls, Alpha Protocol, and amazing grace.
Thanks!