When Twitter is down

When Twitter is down ... I

  • don't care about conferences I never thought about attending and really considered too expensive
  • think about what I AM going to MAKE for dinner
  • stop fondling my mobile like its some goddamn magic talkie box about to deliver the word of God, Warren Buffet, Jeff Jarvis, Steve Jobs, or Oprah to my eternal benefit
  • speak to the person beside me in the elevator
  • don't give a f*ck about what, or who, is going to replace the mainstream media
  • watch people walking by on the street
  • suddenly realize that #hashtags are really just taxonomy for morons
  • lose all interest in the new 'viral' video from CPB
  • feel the soft, silky touch and gentle heft of paper
  • actually give some money to the homeless guy I pretend to ignore every day
  • lose that slight twitch in my eye
  • remember that my life needs more than 140 characters to feel validated
  • make plans to go out with my friends - in time to make reservations
  • stop worrying about synchronizing social media streams in a never-ending quest to maximize my personal brand
  • leave Ashton Kutcher in the $2.99 bin at Blockbuster, where he belongs
  • talk to my wife and kids
  • find amusement in things that are ... funny. Not ironic, or critical or dependent upon wry hashtags.
  • realize that politics, religion and literary criticism do not benefit from brevity - or inanity
  • listen to my voice mails
  • go back to not really caring about Comcast, KFC,  Rogers, AA or any other company that may treat its customers like shit
  • admit that there are VERY FEW people in the world that have a real need for a multi-user desktop Twitter client
  • can compare retweets to Dane Cook or myna birds. Or three year old children that just learned how to use the toilet
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