‘Sous chef, writer, blogger, creative artist, volunteer, lawyer, lecturer, ranter, Swahili-English translator, stand-up comedian and football pundit.’ It sounds like an impressive list of guests for any kind of party you are considering throwing. Apart from the fact that this list of job descriptions, in ‘Twitterworld’, all belong to one person, and chances are that if you invite them to your imaginary party you are likely to end up being bored into a near-death experience within around seventeen seconds. If you think I’m joking, just spend a few minutes cruising around a few accounts.

I like Twitter; I really do. Who wouldn’t fancy spending an hour or two wandering around an online idiot farm? And the f**king thing’s free, too! If you really want to know where to find an unlimited supply of people who can’t bear to pass a minute without letting the world know exactly what they are doing at any moment in time, this place is for you: from what they’ve just had for tea to just how many centilitres of p*ss their bladder squeezed out during their last visit to the toilet, it’s all here folks.

Twitter encapsulates everything that is sad and bad about the human experience. Let’s face it, if we analysed this in any rational way, the first thing you would say is that anyone who feels the need to inform the world about their own life on an almost minute by minute basis is probably either crying out for attention or a complete narcissist. Okay, you could possibly argue (I personally wouldn’t) that there are a few people on the world stage whose day to day existence might be vaguely interesting. For instance, if the Dalai Lama ‘twittered’ that he was currently having a lot of fun gunning down some computer generated crack dealers with an AK47 and was then going to sell their drugs to some Tibetan monks, just to give him plenty of cash to spend on high-end hookers, in the latest version of ‘Grand Theft Auto’, my interest may, just, be aroused. But, let’s face it, most people who inhabit that piece of cyberspace are just clinically incurable attention whores.

I do wonder how sad, in the sense of emotionally distressed, your average Twitter user must be when she, or he, discovers that there are only a limited number of spaces available to describe their lives. Do they have some kind of crisis when they think that anyone who comes across their account, by accident or design, will somehow see them as underachieving failures if they don’t shoehorn in every possible item of information, however pointless, about themselves? How must the person above have felt, for example, when they realised they were not going to have sufficient space to include the fact that they have the ability to juggle three oranges for at least twenty seconds, know how to make melt-in-the-mouth vol au vent cases, and can recognisably fart the chorus of ‘Gimme Shelter’ by the Rolling Stones? It must have been devastating. They probably spent the next several weeks wondering how many ‘followers’ they had failed to acquire, thanks to Twitter’s minimalist policy. See how Twitter can ruin your social life and networking possibilities?

And these people always seem to seek out ‘celebrities’ to ‘tweet’. They start out with the so-called ‘A-listers’; the likes of Beyonce Knowles, Kanye West and Wayne Rooney. Several hundred tweets later, when they realise that Beyonce, Kanye and Wayne aren’t going to reply to them, they set their sights a little lower. ‘I know, I’ll try Alastair Campbell, John Bishop and maybe some random dart player.’ More chance of a response there. And, finally, they get one! Cue a further several hundred ‘tweets’ to said nonentity who is now their best friend (#bff) and will probably get a personal invite (via Twitter, of course) to their Christmas party.

Here’s a little thought, and I am not asking everyone to agree with it. I would venture to suggest that anyone who describes themselves in terms similar to the ones I mentioned at the start of this post is probably none of the things they describe; at least, not in the sense of being any damned good at it. If you are a lawyer, you may write. Likewise if you are a ‘blogger’ or stand-up comedian. ‘Writer’? What does it mean? Most people who describe themselves in these terms are not f**king Jack Kerouac or Will Self! In fact, they would probably find it hard to write a shopping list, let alone anything more interesting. What do I think when I see somebody with a list like this? ‘Oh, impressive. But you forgot to mention that you were the f**king Messiah! How the hell did that slip your mind?’ I was going to say ‘human being’, but of course anyone who lists their talents like this really cannot claim that particular description for themselves.

Here’s a last thought, and I hope I get it trending real soon: #f**kwits