About Twitter ...

I love Twitter (ok, I love a lot of other things like London, Maastricht and industrial quantities of beer but now it’s about Twitter). I started to use Twitter in 1789, during the French revolution. Here’s my very first tweet :


Renaat OMG Storming of the Bastille. Guys, this is huge !
About 221 years ago via pigeons

Marianne @Renaat awfull !! let’s burn something !! #revolution
About 221 years ago via smoke signals

Then I forgot about Twitter for some years until I found it back under my sofa. I used it to stay in touch with a nice oriental woman but she became all famous and dropped me. Twitter landed in the trashcan again.

I became all crazy about pong and did very well (3 times world champion, 5 times European champion and 107 times Belgian champion) but all the time I felt something was missing …

Third time I rediscovered Twitter I was kinda drunk. I wanted to surf to youp***.com but mistyped the word and ended up at the micro blogging site again.

I can’t stop using it. I’m all addicted. I’m tweeting from dusk till dawn now, I’m following awesome people and sites, I stopped talking to my wife and the kids, they have to tweet their stories now and I reply (or block them if they’re nagging and stuff). I have 8 accounts (professional, personal, silly, nice, artistic, naughty and erotic – ok, it’s 7, you DID pay attention). I connected all the stuff around me to Twitter : my toaster (“Ren, your toast is ready”), my TV (“yo lazy guy, that’s 6 hours you’re watching day time TV, go outside”) and Twitter itself (which caused a giant loop and it was almost the end of the internet.

I feel happy with all those messages. I smile when receiving a DM, I laugh with funny tweets, I know when my toast is ready and I go outside after watching way too long day time TV. And I tweet back, I tweet and I tweet and I tweet …

But something’s wrong now. A week ago, I woke up and something was tickling on my back. I tried to scratch but I wasn’t flex enough so I asked my wife. She turned all pale : “OMG REN, YOU’VE GOT SOME BLUE FEATHERS ON YOUR BACK”. She was right. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw all those feathers. It was awful. To forget about this, I tweeted even more. Some days later I was all covered with nice blue feathers.

I’m sleeping on a wire now and I eat bird seed. The doctor told me to stop tweeting but I already told him I won’t do it. Hey, I’ve been offered a job in Sesame Street !