Compared to 1 week ago, I’m sending twice as many Tweets.
I’m using another form of social networking to compensate for the lack of facebook in my life. Similarly last year, I stopped drinking wine for lent, but ended up drinking bare loads of beer. I imagine if I gave up the cigs for lent, I’d come out of the other end smoking a pipe.
Another challenge successfully overcome today: Going out.
I’m not the type to update people who are not even with me, on every moment of my evening out. Y’know the ones with the check-in at Wetherspoons (that’s where the kids go nowadays, right?) or uploading a blurry photo of you scooping your mates hair back, while she projectile vomits Apple Sours and kebab…
I WANT YOU ALL TO SEE WHAT FUN I’M HAVING.
Actually scrap that, I am a serial going out and checking inner, photo uploader. So how did I feel when I went out without my 400+ friends not knowing where I was? What, what if I fell down the stairs and couldn’t get up? What if I’d ended up in a ditch? On my disappearance, the police could have easily checked my latest status update and figured out that I was last seen somewhere between Drunken-ville and the Last Chance Saloon.
A few photos were taken of me tonight. To which I screamed TAG ME, TAG ME IN THEM ALL, TAG MY FACE.
This is what facebook essentially comes down to: from the photo of the half-painted bathroom, your baby being cute for the 100th time, to that wonky cake you’ve baked, that looks like you fished it out of the bin and iced it with snow shovel – we’re all a bunch of attention-seeking, show-offs.
Exhibit A – this blog