As a recently ousted student I have been finding my days rather lacking in excitement. This week I found my options for fun so thin on the ground, I gave in to the one social networking vice I swore I never would; Twitter. But what can I say, where Stephen Fry leads, i follow. The man could convince me to spend my life savings on a floral dining set if he loved it enough.
Unfortunately joining Twitter is like going to a party late, all your friends have already left and everyone is engrossed conversations, seemingly in code. It would be rude to butt in, and God knows what #crispslikemonkeys! means, and why it got such rapturous laughter from all in the surrounding area. I tried sitting in the corner for a while, listening and drinking by myself but it just wasn’t the same. I couldn’t even enjoy myself at a party Stephen Fry was attending. There was one attempt to join in, but as expected, it was met with blank stares and 5 seconds of the purest kind of awkward silence, before everyone turned back to their respective encoded mutterings. At this point, I decided it was time to go home. Where people talk in sentences, which are more often than not, over 140 characters and spoken directly to the person they concern.
Sorry Stephen, I just couldn’t stay. (But I will buy that floral dining set if it will make me your friend.)