Reply Hazy - Try Again Later

I find twitter horribly incestuous.  The links between people who I know in real life (none of whom follow me), and those that I twitter "know" are far too close, with less than two degrees of seperation applying.

The benefit of using twitter was that, to begin with, I didn't have my real name listed.  Everyone I spoke with on there was an unknown entity, thus I could be myself with little or no reciminations.  Every mad, mentalist, dribble-sodden wibbly thought could be unveiled, and what the fuck did it matter?  I didn't know them, I'd never meet them, who cared what they thought about anything I said or did? 

It was wonderfully freeing.  I didn't bother locking my profile; no one knew I was there, so who gave a shit? 
I had core groups of people that I conversed with, I could get on with my autism advocacy and my anti BNP thing, and no one would ever be any the wiser.

Then I fucked up.  I fucked up quite spectacularly, and at that point decided that I may as well just put my name on it.  I wasn't saying anything I didn't really think or stand by, so why not.

I started to piss about more. I dipped into the whole meme thing.  I became more "me", but the proper one.  The me that thinks other people's children are fucking horrible, but worships her own in a manner that borders on the obsessive.  The me that swears just because she enjoys it (but never in front of t'Midgets, mine or other peoples).  The me who thinks it's funny to teach small children how to "throw" a burp snowball, or get them to pull my finger.  The me who, regardless of mostly not finding herself totally repellant and idiotic, is still sometimes tempted to staple copies of her phd to their foreheads nonetheless.  The me who has some impressive mental health problems, and a past life that is fucked up beyond all repair.

I started to post my whiney bitch blog posts, and people were generally tolerant of it.

Then I discovered I fucked up again, but to a larger, more horrifying degree and got a bit self conscious.  It meant that I posted less, watched what I said, got a bit nervous about being laughed at rather than with, and generally had a bit of a wibble.

Frankly, I went a little loopy.  It was pretty pointless, didn't deal with why I went a bit bonkers, so I thought fuck it, and carried on regardless.

In the spirit of saying fuck it, I invite you to participate in Magic 8 Ball Day.  If anyone asks you a question, merely shake the ball of brilliance for a reply.

You may be thinking that there is no way that a toy could answer your questions, or the questions asked of you by others.

Personally, I'm looking forward to it.  Particularly any questions asked by the Midgets.

Magic 8 Ball Day : Will it be a success? Ah, it is certain... 

Use the Magic 8 Ball here to join in