Some of you, as regular readers will know that I am an avid Twitter fan, well, TBH, I was.

During the last few weeks whilst I have been sick, I have noticed a trend on Twitter that has shaken me to the core, infact, this trend has been there since my day one, and yes, as per the usual, I have, and been caught up in the drama.  Social media is a great phenomenon, and being of an age and part of the great internet uprising, it has certainly opened my eyes.

I joined Facebook in 2010, and guilty of slagging off just as many friends as I have been slagged off to, all part and parcel I guess of washing your dirty laundry in public, sadly before the internet sensation, if anyone had anything to say, it was done face to face and one on one, but, nowadays its all to easy to smear your faeces of grievance across the front of everyones smartphone and worse, beyond, as once heard, Facebook is for friends who you love to hate, whereas, Twitter is for meeting strangers that you would actually like to love.

I actually thought, in my stupid wisdom that Twitter was a social class above FaceBook giving me the chance to get to know a little more than what we may have already known about a business, a celebrity and a n other who was probably just as nosy as myself, and of course, the many groups of pro-blo’s. Professional bloggers sucking up to merchandise retailers, restaurants, business, clothing manufacturers, the list of which is endless, and yes, I too have endorsed many an item, especially of businesses in my home town, and recieved reward for doing same, but, what has recently been brewing, are celebrities, pillars of communities, writers, chefs and believe it or not fucking astronauts are doing exactly that. Twitter gave us a chance to be there, at shoulder level, on the red carpet with them, but, surely, wasn’t  all this supposed to be give and take?

I was watching a food writer programme recently, and it suddenly dawned on me, just how gullible, and many others are, that we all love a cheeky grin, a mug to camera and butter oozing out of that ones mouth, but, does that actually detract from the item you recently purchased endorsed by this person on the imaginary promissory of a buttery abdominal part? And who really wishes to know that this person actually walked 15Km to find the best Miso soup in Japan.

Whats with the secret of sitting half way up a staircase staring into a black attaché case that contains numerous amounts of tin boxes with rare liquorice, for fucks sake, how many species of liquorice are there?  Lips seductively pouted, whilst uplifted breasts clad in tight velvet attempt to cook brownies without spilling white dust over her dress, who fucking cooks like that in real life, and what really is in the small tin at the bottom of the toolbox? BTW, how many recipes can you concoct with just Rocket & Radish?!

Remember that little feeling known as “euphoria acceptance” you got when someone *follows* you back, and you are in awe and retweet to tell the world just how sad you are? yes, thats me, and I’m sure there are many more *me’s* out there, I hadn’t realised just how much of my life I have been wasting, waiting for a tweet from someone to tell me they had just had a shit, because, basically, thats what it amounts to.

What about the greatest achievement recently, IMO, Tim Peake, well, he’s obviously going to be a *Sir* by now, on a list, especially as he wished Her Majesty a Happy Birthday from the ISS, this guy really makes my piss boil, he’s young enough to be my son, yet, he does not communicate with the ageing Buzz Lightyears that we, an interested generation in space travel are, yet he conference schools and judges toilet roll rocket ships, how about a live stream to us pensioners queuing at the Post Office on how to germinate our seeds?

If it wasn’t for us as joe public tweeters, many of these A celebs and B listers etc, would certainly not be flouting the outrageous clothes they wear for free and endorse the likes of mulch and banana, Vulgarbi and the many vile couture house rags that brain wash the youth that are fashion and image conscious.

I loved to read the antics of my few core tweeters, who was going to what concert and where? when the next bottle of Prosecco was about to be opened, who is eating cake again? words of the day, Birthday baton news and reading between the lines of the odd cryptic tweet now and then, of course, distributing my inaign news was always foremost and hot off the press.

I’ve calculated that of my 26,700 tweets and averaging 4.5 characters per word, I have put online 830,666 words, that’s more than the 774,776 in total in both the Old & New Testaments, and hard to believe that it is, it’s just as hard to believe that I’ve talked that much rubbish.

I have had fun on Twitter, but decided it’s time to hang up my boots, as much as I would like to stay, and in the words of my dear friend who instigated my blogging, “we have lives to lead and enjoy”

One final Tweet, by the way @VictoriaBeckham, no fashion sense, you cannot sing, the Evoke is a joke & finally yes, your arse does look big in *this*.

Rant over.