First things first...
This is not a sympathy post – nor is it a begging post either. While reading this self deprecating post please be aware that I am incredibly bored and don’t know what I am doing with, well . . . all will become clear (I think).
I apologise now if this post is somewhat me me me and down beat, but a made up man has got to do what a made up man has got to do - even if I don't actually have to do it.
Now carry on.
In the never ending quest to occupy the time between any given moment and that point in existence when it all stops and nothing matters anymore I often find myself staring at the screen of my laptop in awe and wonder.
|Boo Hoo - Im soooo alone...|
The internet, as we all know, is full of nonsense and idiots (like this and me), but hidden amongst the highly unnecessary and quite vulgar amount of pictures involving naked women/men/various farm animals/household objects and any variation thereof not to mention the cornucopia of puerile antics of faceless celebrities doing or not doing things. . . hidden somewhere in the darkest recesses behind the video of some pointy faced millionaires’ daughter doing things to a man and a couple of clicks away from the photo of “her off the telly who used to do that thing” is a thing called Google plus or Google+ for the internet savvy out there.
I however am not one of these internet savvy illuminati.
I am a bloke who has got far too much time on his hands although that does not excuse me for what I have done.
|Waa-Waa I am interesting in real life...HONEST!!!|
For some unfathomable reason I clicked a couple of buttons and ended up putting my face and name and DNA and inside leg measurement up on the web for all to see on the afore mentioned Google+.
For two weeks I have been staring at the pages of Google+ in mild confusion. Reading page after page of media types slowly changing their views on this new social website and how is becoming more and more popular, I thought I would take the leap of uncertainty and join up and learn what it’s all about.
Doing so, however, has left me feeling more alone than Lonely Len McSaddo from the village of solidarity.
When reviewing my so called circle of friends it really is laughably pathetic to include the BBC website and NASA (who are only there because they are the only things on Google+ that I recognise).
And so I find myself clicking on Google+ for no other reason than to play Millionare city. A game for children that is also available on Facebook, another screen to stare at but one which contains real life fleshy people I have physically touched in a none sexual manner (with their consent) at some point of my life. A time wasting exercise of futility that does nothing but mirror my own online existence.
|*Sigh* Nobody knows the REAL me!|
This is what happens when you go online using your real name.
Dicking about as Bumferry Hogart means I can pretty much say what I want about whatever subject I care and do what I choose without any real fear of consequence because. . .well, its not really me. I mean, it is me. I’m the one doing it, but the internet doesn’t know that (i think) and even if it did, I very rarely if ever do anything illegal or bad enough to warrant some policeman to drive all the way out here to extradite me to the US of A because if that did happen, I would just sulk my out of any argument they wish to put in front of.
So take THAT F.B.I.
And it’s amazing how little spam I get in my email.
In conclusion: I am an idiot. I know nothing other than I guess we’ll call it draw. I win in the anonymity stakes and the internet shows me just how much of a pointless battle it is because nobody was even watching, not even a spambot.
|HA-HA! Screw you guys - I can lick my own balls!!|
*ps – if anyone from the F.B.I. or C.I.A or Mossad or MI6 is reading this for any reason... that was just a joke y’know... don’t shoot me or anything... thanks.