Twitter my arse
Maybe it’s my age, but I just cannot understand this obsession with mobile phones.
I carry one with me because I do find it convenient sometimes. There are times when I call around to someone and I forget where they live so I ring them and they tell me. Then there is the odd occasion when I am in the chemist and I forget whether Herself is on the 600mg or the 800mg of Valium, so I ring her and she tells me. It’s also quite handy if I’m up the mountains, and the car breaks down so I can call Spanner to come and give me a tow back home.
There is an advertisement on the television for one of these new fangled phones, and one of the features they shout about is that you can “order those tickets wherever you are”. I have been trying unsuccessfully to come up with some scenario where I am wandering around somewhere and I suddenly think “Shit! I must order those tickets immediately. It can’t wait until I get home.” And when would I conceivably want to browse the Interweb as a matter of urgency?
My phone can connect to the Interweb. I tried it once, and it worked for about five minutes before it cleaned out my account. The sites I visited were fiddly and virtually unusable, and I certainly didn’t learn anything that made the exercise worthwhile. I haven’t used it for that since. I cannot envisage any scenario where I will have to use it in the future.
Then there is Twitter.
Twitter is so far outside my realms of understanding that I have to ignore it, else I’d go insane.
I signed up for Twitter, because everyone is going on about it, and I wanted to see what it was about. As far as I can gather, I am supposed to send text messages from my phone saying things like “I am just having a dump” or “This pint is nice and creamy”. Who gives a flying fuck what I’m doing? Why would I feel the need to broadcast it anyway? Am I so dissatisfied with my own company that I feel the urge to share every moment with everyone? If I want to tell someone something, then all I have to do is phone them, or at least send them a text message. Why do I need to know that someone is “Fiddling with my blog post” or “Waiting to board for me flight to nyc”?
headrambles @everyone Get a fucking life.
Gah!
Soon enough we won’t have to open our mouths.
Somebody will verbalise something, only for the person beside them to Twitter, ‘Talking is, like, SO 2008, dude.’
Pass the Anadin.
And why am I being tagged as a Brit? Double gah.
Radge – Send me your Twitter address and I’ll explain about the flag.
Radge at don’t be talkin’ soft dot ie.
Aha another can of worms opened here or should that be another bunch of tweets twittered.
Got to admit I don’t think its for me and I certainly wouldn’t have it on my mobile – that’s for photos and text messages…….
I never use it on my phone (and my phone’s always support this sort of stuff!) – but do use it in my web browser….
TheChrisD was right – he said we’d have to convince you that it was just like smoking a pipe – clearly it isn’t!
I’m with thee on this one Grandad. I just don’t get it.
I may be straying a little off course here but I wondered to myself- what tickets? What tickets would Grandad order? To see whom or for what event? Do they have gun shows in Ireland? Didn’t Joseph Locke die?
Grandad, You are right on point, I could not have said it better. Want to talk to me, call me on the f’n phone. Also, don’t waste my time when I leave you a message, you call me back because you saw that I called but didn’t listen to the message that I left for you!
Keiron – OK. Now that is a sensible use of Twitter. If I think of it as like smoking a pipe, I could try it? Where do I light it??
NaRocRoc – I always knew you were intelligent. 😉
TT – You always stray off course. We have lots of events here in Ireland that tickets are required for – bog snorkeling? bare fist fighting? Daniel O’Donnell?
With you here Grandad. What’s the point of Twitter? ‘Why Facebook’ is another one of those things. Can’t we just use phones like we used to?
I’ve been told to get onto Facebook and Twitter and all those, but what those people don’t realise is that at my age, whenever I learn something, another bit of information falls out the back to make room. I already can’t keep my children’s names straight or find my glasses; what would be next?! So, I’m leaving Twitter et al alone.
Eoin – Welcome to my humble spot in cyberspace! I confess I joined Facebook ages ago. It now accounts for about 90% of my mail, but I couldn’t be bothered going through all the areas disabling mails. Pain in the arse.
Susan – At your age? You’re only a Spring Chicken! Wait until you start loosing your false teeth in restaurants…….
I think evolution will result in out great-great-great-great-grandchildren have 4 thumbs instead of two so they can text message faster. Either that or the cellphones will simply be integrated directly in to their brains so they can simply think message at each other.
I am not sure that last one is possible. Careful observation has shown that brains and cellphones are incompatible, people talking on them seem to lose at least 30 or 40 IQ points.
I made the pipe analogy, since I presumed it was something you do regularly and without thinking. Most of the time I tweet without thinking much, I just “do it”.
It’s really something you do when you want to ramble on, but don’t want to make a full post for something that’s 2-3 lines long 🙂
He’s almost convinced it’s a pipe Chris, don’t give the game away!!!
Thanks Grandad, altho I bow to your superior wisdom and knowledge!!
Yep, pretty much.
Okay, I’m going to get all defensive here and say that I USE TWITTER, but not to tell people what I’m doing at the moment, which would be insanely stupid because, like, who cares? But rather to make inane comments like..
“Step aside, for this day is quickly reeling out of control and I wouldn’t want you to get crushed or anything.”
and..
“The lady at the Coffeebean laughed when I ordered a “synonym roll” and asked if there was another word for it.”
and..
“Well, here I am.. and there YOU are.. what now?”
BUT, most importantly, I can now follow Britney Spears (@therealbritney) on it and keep up with her day to day happenings..
“We were able to sneak away to Santa Barbara for a relaxing weekend! – Britney”
and..
“Just took the boys to the pumpkin patch!! ~Britney”
and..
“Brit is just spending a relaxing day with the boo boo’s. : ) posted by Brett.”
Now, I don’t know who this “Brett” character is, but I can’t tell you how thrilling it was to find out – in REAL TIME – that Britney was spending a relaxing day with the “boo boo’s”, whatever those are. I think that’s what the kids are calling “the girls” these days. You know.. the “boobies”.. so it’s good to know that Brit is relaxing with her boobies.
Or maybe it’s her kids. Yeah, that makes more sense, although I’m sure her boobies are with her too. It’s not like they’re removable or anything.
But now I have to go “tweet” about leaving this comment, so all I can say is that it’s not the forties anymore, Grandad; you’re going to have to “get with it” sooner than later, else you’ll be left behind with your vinyl records and eight tracks and black and white TV and Philco radio.
@rhodester
..and pet rock and Windows 3.1 and your Edsel.
Jayzus RhodesTer! If you want to write a full post, then use your own blog. 😉
So you are a keen fan of Britney and her boobies? I suppose it takes all sorts?
GD, have you SEEN my blog? I seldom use it to put up full posts.
I used to be a fan of Britney and her boobies, but then she got to be too old.
Of course I’ve seen your blog. I think. *wanders off to make sure*
Grandad, you speaketh the truth yet again. Tweeter is something i only heard of for the first time when i started blogging a few months back. And i cannot for the life of me think why anyone would be interested in the tedious details and inanities of someone else’s life.
A couple of years ago i met a girl i’d known in school on the bus. It had been years since I’d seen her and i was happy enough to chat for a while. But once she started up with drivel such as “I wonder what my mum will cook for dinner tonight, i hope it’s barbecue chicken pizza, yum yum” I swiftly took the only appropriate action. I bludgeoned her to death with a plastic fork and buried her in the Wicklow mountains.
The thank-you cards have only recently stopped rolling in.