Fuck a Twitter

A few nights ago, Corey Ball and I went out and somehow in the conversation, Twitter was mentioned and thus spawned this post. Interesting, no?

I guess since most people (myself included) are so self-indulgent and feel the need to share every detail of their day, as if we're all interested in the fact that they had an apple bread panini for lunch, the concept of having a Twitter account is welcomed, if not slight novel.

I, on the other hand, am trying to break away from this Orwellian madness. That is, when I'm not writing in my many blogs. Snap.

The reality, at least for me, is that no one gives a shit about what I am doing because there's not much to tell. In terms of these blogs, I share whatever I feel like sharing and I can control it, which is why I rarely write about my romantic relationships and instead write about eight billion posts about how much I'm in love with french bread pizza and Jets to Brazil. Furthering my selection to a quick jaunt of minute-by-minute updates seems a little egomaniacal, even for me.

Just for posterity's sake, let me give you an example of what my stupid Twitter would look like on a Tuesday afternoon:

Working on a press release. 12:04 pm
Sent press release to client. 12:15 pm
Eating leftover spaghetti. This shit is wack. 12:45 pm
Working on a press release. 1 pm
@ my mom. Stop nagging me. I'll take out the trash whenever. 1:20 pm

My weekends wouldn't be very exciting either

Hanging out with the kid. 8 am
Hanging out with the kid. 8:30 am....

You get the point. I don't really have a problem with the concept of Twittering (as the kids say). The shit's just not for me, dig? It doesn't fit with my sweet lifestyle of talking like a newspaper reporter from the 1920's and the 1960's.