Since the start of the new year there has been much to talk
and gripe about, the blistering cold days have started to breach our wintery attire,
the FTSE could still do with a stiff drink and a Viagra or two, and Prince
Charles is talking. But an old fad has nestled onto my phone as a new thing to
indulge in.
Twitter has led me to broaden my lust for information from
the worlds of design, satire, F1, and any traveller that has a touch of wit and
charm. But more unfortunately, it led me to immediately keep a distasteful
watch on ‘followers’ and how this may…or as it turns out, may not grow. Apart
from the steady flow of quick links to a vast array of pornographic web sites
from @sexy_cindy43 who really likes my abs (I have none), the following is
small, but a niche market is perfect for me. No burden on perfection, of
pleasing a mass, but there was niggling desire to get a big name ReTweet, or
commonly known as a RT.
So I set out in a late night task of @ing some of the big
guns, but primarily Mr Fry, the national treasure, the crown jewel of QI and
ultimate twitter king. But my problem was that I had nothing of interest for
him to bite. I needed to create a hook, a beautifuly dressed nuanced gem, full
of delight, humour, insight, intelligence, and flow all in the limited
140 characters permitted. I had nothing…nothing, not a drop of anything...and
eventually this was blurted out.
“is it a myth that three the story of the three hedgehogs
from Rotterdam forged their way to devils dyke in a glorious fashion?”
What was that? What was I trying to achieve…as it happened
nothing was aforementioned and it was a failed task. But it led me to a new
place, a new venture to pursue…what did happen to the myth of the three
hedgehogs? How did they make it? Where did they stay? What tools did they use?
It’s all to follow in the next entry….until then please follow
for more failed attempts of RTs @petresposito
Fry doesn't know what he's missing.
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