What the fuck is Twitter actually for? I mean, sure, it’s good at helping Egyptians to mobilise their communities in order to collectively undermine & overthrow a tyrannical government (search the hashtag #Egypt if you want to get an idea of just how large the scope of the conversation was) but it’s also used by drones like Lara Bingle to drop poignant quotes from Albert Einstein like, ‘I never worry about the future, it comes soon enough…’

Yes Lara, they truly are words of wisdom, from the iPhone wielding hands of the same girl who once wrote an open question to her followers, “What’s your fav perfume? LBx.” This and other important questions only ever get asked on social media. Without the all-seeing, all-knowing, all-capturing eye of Twitter, we would simply have to get on with living our dull lives without the chance to (potentially) interact with celebrities on a daily basis.

For those of you that use Twitter, I’m sure that someone you follow spends the majority of their day ‘tweeting’ to celebrities in the vain hope that they might elicit any kind of a response from them. Leading questions, inflammatory remarks, arse-kissing, outlandish statements, exhalations of undying affection – whatever it takes to hear back from the person on the other end of the Twittersphere. It’s like prostituting your own soul for a brief interaction with someone that you’ll never know & never speak to, but it’s okay because it’s just the Internet and it doesn’t really count, does it?

It does count, you cunts. There’s nothing more pathetic than pandering to someone for the pure thrill of having them tweet you back. Woopee fucking do.

As if the fucks that do this aren’t bad enough, there’s an even more atrocious sub-genre of douchebags that beg celebrities for retweets, generally for friends (like they have friends) that are having a birthday, just broke up with their girlfriend/boyfriend or are dying of some incurable disease like liver cancer or arse cancer or whatever… By the way, I use the term ‘celebrity’ very loosely here, as half of the people currently tagged with that moniker are in no way famous despite occasionally appearing in the ‘Confidential’ section of the Herald Sun at some shitty club.

I’ve deliberately misspelt the following excerpt to give it authenticity.

“Hey (insert celebrity name here), my bruvs iz lyin in hospital wiv lung cancer, your his fav (footballer/model/actor/porn-star) and I jus kno dat if u were 2 retweet dis he wld feel so much better. Plz retweet!”

I just imagine the doctor in the hospital ward where this urchin’s brother is holed up, dying of lung cancer at 28 from supporting a 2 pack-a-day habit since he was 13 that he funded by robbing grandmothers while they were at the local bowls club playing bingo.

“Well nurses, it appears that Brynne Edelsten has re-tweeted a comment for this young man… due to this action, it would seem that the prognosis for young Dwayne (he’d have a fucked up name like that) is no longer fatal!”

And don’t even get me started about marketing managers and their fascination with Twitter as part of some ‘holistic approach to integrated digital marketing in order to re-affirm an emotional connection with the intended target audience’. What a bunch of cunts.

/end communication