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Twitty twisted

Here's a rough history of social networking, based on my limited understanding/interest of it...

AIM
MySpace
Facebook

and now, the coup de grâce...





Ugh. Where do I start?

"Coup de grâce" is literally defined as a deathblow or death shot administered to end the suffering of one mortally wounded. The "one" in this case being the English language. Social networking and "funingo" have finally dissolved into the blatherstrom of bullshit that is Twitter. Now, I have friends on Twitter that may one day read this post, so I have to phrase carefully. I want to be stern, aggressive, but not insulting and condescending. They have to know that this isn't a personal attack, merely a condemnation of technology's stupefaction of the American people.

Hmm, let's see... Ok, I think I got it.

What in the blue fuck is wrong with you?! Nothing you have ever Twatted is important. Nothing. Nothing you have ever Twatted is relevant. Nothing.
Nothing you have or ever will Twat will be profound. None of it. You or anyone else. Twitter is for celebrities, desperate corporations, desperate celebrities, losers, and, of course, desperate losers. That's it. It is the last vestige of a once illustrious language. A language that gave us such resplendent words as coagulate, superfluous, motherfucker, and resplendence.

What's that you say? "A blogger criticizing Twitterers?" Well, first of all, jerk, I'm a writer who's just too real to get hired. Too real or too talentless and lazy, I can never remember which. And secondly, while I agree that most blogs are dribble-drabble, at least I have the decency not to numerate unnecessarily, nor note nonsensical narration.

But my main problem with Twitter is not that it's a godless abomination of language, but that at 140 characters, most messages that have a potential level of interest cannot be fully explored. Thus, my new anti-Twitter series is born.

What was Twatted:
@ the mall. jus copped the new tori amos. glad there wasnt another sodomy checkpoint @ dELiA*s!

The story Twitter couldn't cover:
Holy shitballs! My friend Donny just told me that the new Tori Amos CD is out! It's her latest release since 2007's American Doll Posse and supposedly her best work since 2001's Grammy nominated Strange Little Girls! Ugh, I can't believe how underrated that album is! I mean, yeah, it was released a week after 9/11 so I guess we had more important things to be concerned about, but seriously, you know what I'll never forget? How awesome Tori Amos is! I have to pull into the nearest store and buy it. The mall! Perfect! Hey! Hurry up, asshole! Turn! If I'm not listening to Tori Amos in 15 minutes I will choke myself!

Man, it's busy today. Is that lady pulling out? Excellent! Oh fuck, it's a handicapped space. No, you know what? I don't give a shit. The retards are walking today; I need some motherfucking piano rock. Okay, slow down. No need for me to look like an ass running through the mall. Oh no, Abercrombie store, gotta hold my breath. Dammit, they got me! *Cough! Cough!* Excuse me. Okay, let's see here, I think I have to go right. Wait, what the fuck? Sam Goody? That's still a place? ...... Screw it, I needs my Tori.

Psh, the jackass at the register had the nerve to give me a look when I asked him where the new Tori Amos CD was. At least I don't work in a fucking Sam Goody, prick. $26?! For a CD? More like Sam "Baddy" if you ask me! Haha, that was pretty good. It just came to me. Hmm, what's worse, paying twice what a CD costs or wasting another five minutes walking to Barnes & Noble?

Here's your cash, nerd! I bet this guy sleeps with butterflies. A bag? Why would I need a bag? Just gimme the CD! Oh wow, I can actually feel the power of this CD in my hands. Is it pulsating?! No, that's just my heart racing. Oh crap, I completely forgot about the new exit procedure! Is he there? Phew, he's gone. I can pop open these dulcet tones ASAP! Last week the mall apparently hired some new security guard who stands outside of dELiA*s. I guess there's no dress code either cause he had smudges all over his face, a bushy, grey beard, a plaid vest and sweatpants, and he smelled like the circus. He could've been undercover, I'm not sure.

Anyway, due to the increase in shoplifting, the new guard's job is to take customers behind the dumpster in the neighboring alley and give them a thorough cavity search. Turns out, earlier in the day he'd hurt his hands and had to use the sodomy technique. He must've been fresh out of the academy or a former government worker or something because I asked some security guards at the airport and they'd never even heard of the sodomy technique. So at least I got searched by a well-trained officer. I don't even know why the mall hired him. Who smuggles out mall merchandise in their ass? Maybe I'm just really
naïve. Ooh, I gotta Twat about my new purchase! All my friends will be so jealous!

Hey, where's my car?