I will not be joining Twitter anytime soon. If you really want to know what I'm doing give me a ring. Or maybe even a text. Or wait til I update my Facebook status. Because I can assure you that most of the time I am doing something totally dull. Like watching a boy on stilts bounce around town almost taking out the entire market (this happened today).
I do, however, love Facebook a teeny bit too much. Mainly because you can see whole soap opera worthy sagas play out without even trying to track people. Newsfeed, you are my hilariousness. Example:
An old school friend who I haven't spoken to in years
15:57: In a relationship
16:02: It's complicated
16:07: Single
I'm not sure what I find most amusing - the fact that it takes 5 minutes for it to become apparent that your relationship just might be going down the tubes and a further 5 to confirm that you're officially dumped or the fact that she felt the need to be on Facebook updating her status during that awkward break up conversation.
Then comes the inevitable comments from people pretending to care but are really just very nosey. Luckily I don't have to comment because I am astute enough to pick up what has happened from the replies to comments. Obviously when I say astute I mean I can read.
Bunnyboy has an iPhone now. I'll admit it's pretty swish but I don't think I'll be joining the revolution anytime soon. For a start it doesn't do media messages, for a second I hear the battery life is pretty piss poor and it's just massive. I prefer to carry around a phone and an iPod and an Astroboy diary and my train ticket and then lose them all individually for 5 minutes at a time. The irony being that when we were out socially on Saturday night Bb was on social networking sites whilst being sociable. There is a man dedicated to socialising. Whilst I pour beer all over the place. That's pretty sociable too you know. So are hats. And creamy cocktails. And Ms P&B dressed up as a toy soldier. All in all, a sociable bunch. Talking about comics. And handbags.
Stumbled across Nuit Blanche whilst I was fucking around on the internet. I urge you to go to one if you have the chance. Free transport and lots of drinking whilst surrounded by madness. Te me manques, Paris.
I do, however, love Facebook a teeny bit too much. Mainly because you can see whole soap opera worthy sagas play out without even trying to track people. Newsfeed, you are my hilariousness. Example:
An old school friend who I haven't spoken to in years
15:57: In a relationship
16:02: It's complicated
16:07: Single
I'm not sure what I find most amusing - the fact that it takes 5 minutes for it to become apparent that your relationship just might be going down the tubes and a further 5 to confirm that you're officially dumped or the fact that she felt the need to be on Facebook updating her status during that awkward break up conversation.
Then comes the inevitable comments from people pretending to care but are really just very nosey. Luckily I don't have to comment because I am astute enough to pick up what has happened from the replies to comments. Obviously when I say astute I mean I can read.
Bunnyboy has an iPhone now. I'll admit it's pretty swish but I don't think I'll be joining the revolution anytime soon. For a start it doesn't do media messages, for a second I hear the battery life is pretty piss poor and it's just massive. I prefer to carry around a phone and an iPod and an Astroboy diary and my train ticket and then lose them all individually for 5 minutes at a time. The irony being that when we were out socially on Saturday night Bb was on social networking sites whilst being sociable. There is a man dedicated to socialising. Whilst I pour beer all over the place. That's pretty sociable too you know. So are hats. And creamy cocktails. And Ms P&B dressed up as a toy soldier. All in all, a sociable bunch. Talking about comics. And handbags.
Stumbled across Nuit Blanche whilst I was fucking around on the internet. I urge you to go to one if you have the chance. Free transport and lots of drinking whilst surrounded by madness. Te me manques, Paris.
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