Monday, February 16, 2009
TWAT
I can currently be found on Twitter. I don't know how you can find me on Twitter, but I trust you to use your initiative if you can be bothered.
I very vaguely understand what it's about, but it may take several years to gain any real insight into it.
I mean, I used to listen to Jimmy Savile's Old Record Club for years and years and eventually got the hang of it, although it would have seemed completely incomprehensible to the outsider. All that stuff along the lines of "Graham Archive! Graham Archive! Now then! We shalt with the carry on! As it so 'appens it was number eight and I just got two million points from you lot because it was the one and only THE FOUR TOPS you see!"
Well ... Twitter can't be any more incomprehensible than that, can it?
There's always the chance that I will make a spontaneous, off the cuff remark that will upset people. After all, I'm not vetting myself in the same way that I do when blogging. So ... it might be worth checking out just for that ... er, if you can find me.
I won't be abandoning blogging though. This is where I'll still post all the thoughtful, sensitive, award winning stuff about my beautiful children and my uncle's gruesome illness as usual, to the complete indifference of the blogosphere.
Labels: Graham Archive, Jimmy Savile, Twitter, Twitter twatter twotter
Thursday, May 03, 2007
TWATTER
As part of my new *part time blogging* regime there are going to be a lot more very short posts.
"Well, wouldn't it be better for you to get a Twitter account?" you may ask.
Here in sequential diary form is a demonstration of the reasons why I shouldn't have a Twitter account ...
*Had long and tedious dream last night in which nothing much happened except that Julian Lennon and Sean Lennon both left boring messages on my answerphone asking me to get back to them.
*Am now inflicted with terrible earworm - Julian Lennon's Too Late For Goodbyes, with that revolting toy mouth organ solo at about 1 min. 50 on the YouTube video**.
*Attempt to mow lawn as lawnmower falls apart. Main body of mower literally held together with bits of string.
*May starts, hay fever symptoms start. Oh, to be in England, in the summertime ...
*Am recovering from night of fitful, feverish sleep. Left leg was aching, so assumed that I must have deep vein thrombosis and would be quite dead within the hour.
*Last night's dream: managed to blag way into Oscar ceremonies, accompanied by "huge star" (a burly Robert Duvall lookalike with a Noo Joisey accent). "I have a man on a huge salary just so he can tell me what I want to hear," says Robert.
*Marvel at the fact that the area outside where the Academy Awards is held looks exactly like the street where my Auntie Joyce used to live.
*Earworm: still Julian Lennon, still the toy mouth organ. Someone shoot me.
*Buy some nuts and bolts at Robert Dyas to carry out emergency repair work on lawnmower.
*Comforted by the fact that the young Richard Attenborough (circa Brighton Rock) lookalike still works at Robert Dyas.
*Roots need touching up. Must lighten hair because, hey, it's the summer and I don't want to end up having what Grunhaus once described as "the Jim Kerr circa Promised You A Miracle" look**.
*New earworm ... Promised You A Miracle by Simple Minds.
*er ... "anything is possEEEEbull ... rhythm of LIFE" ...
**stares into middle distances, like Jim Kerr out of Simple Minds*
**twiddles thumbs*
** that's something else - I bet you can't link to things on Twitter. Not that I've looked into it mind ...
*** having made a big thing of the fact that I am in semi retirement, it really IS time to step away from the coalface of blogging and get back to me Margaret Atwood. See you all in a bit.
"Well, wouldn't it be better for you to get a Twitter account?" you may ask.
Here in sequential diary form is a demonstration of the reasons why I shouldn't have a Twitter account ...
*Had long and tedious dream last night in which nothing much happened except that Julian Lennon and Sean Lennon both left boring messages on my answerphone asking me to get back to them.
*Am now inflicted with terrible earworm - Julian Lennon's Too Late For Goodbyes, with that revolting toy mouth organ solo at about 1 min. 50 on the YouTube video**.
*Attempt to mow lawn as lawnmower falls apart. Main body of mower literally held together with bits of string.
*May starts, hay fever symptoms start. Oh, to be in England, in the summertime ...
*Am recovering from night of fitful, feverish sleep. Left leg was aching, so assumed that I must have deep vein thrombosis and would be quite dead within the hour.
*Last night's dream: managed to blag way into Oscar ceremonies, accompanied by "huge star" (a burly Robert Duvall lookalike with a Noo Joisey accent). "I have a man on a huge salary just so he can tell me what I want to hear," says Robert.
*Marvel at the fact that the area outside where the Academy Awards is held looks exactly like the street where my Auntie Joyce used to live.
*Earworm: still Julian Lennon, still the toy mouth organ. Someone shoot me.
*Buy some nuts and bolts at Robert Dyas to carry out emergency repair work on lawnmower.
*Comforted by the fact that the young Richard Attenborough (circa Brighton Rock) lookalike still works at Robert Dyas.
*Roots need touching up. Must lighten hair because, hey, it's the summer and I don't want to end up having what Grunhaus once described as "the Jim Kerr circa Promised You A Miracle" look**.
*New earworm ... Promised You A Miracle by Simple Minds.
*er ... "anything is possEEEEbull ... rhythm of LIFE" ...
**stares into middle distances, like Jim Kerr out of Simple Minds*
**twiddles thumbs*
** that's something else - I bet you can't link to things on Twitter. Not that I've looked into it mind ...
*** having made a big thing of the fact that I am in semi retirement, it really IS time to step away from the coalface of blogging and get back to me Margaret Atwood. See you all in a bit.
Labels: Academy Awards, hay fever, Jim Kerr's bootpolish hair dye, Julian Lennon, lawnmowers, mouth organs, Robert Duvall, semi retirement, Twatter, Twitter, Twotter
