I’ve gotten this video forwarded to me 6 times since yesterday. Obviously important stuff from Ms. Alexyss Tylor, the ATL’s answer to Dr. Ruth, who hosts this public access show with her mom.

I’m in the process of cleaning up my current laptop in prep to get a new one…and discovering all manner of thought lost items…including a photo set of the Holiday 2006 Twinkie the Kid Extravaganza!

I stopped by the 2007 Web 2.0 Expo at the Moscone Convention Center here in SF this week, because the employer I recently resigned from to start my own company was kind enough to let me hang onto the free pass they had gotten me.

What were the hot topics and creme de la buzz? I dunno. After reading through the schedule of speakers and sessions not once but twice, I couldn’t find even a single promise of learning something that wasn’t already readily available either via the Web or common sense. I avoided talking to anyone, showing up for an hour just to stock up on the usual tech convention freebies: spiral bound graph paper, fancy gel pens & booth babe hotel room keys.

To be honest though, there was one constant din among the Moscone Hall conversation that was impossible to miss: discussions, ideas & resounding endorsements of the latest pro (and not so pro) blogger craze of “micro-blogging” using Twitter.

If you don’t know what Twitter is…god bless ya! You’ve just saved yourself from the wake up call that those mostly California-residing digerati who somehow convince the rest of the tech lemming world to listen to what they whimsically and often illogically dictate as k3wl! and potentially society-changing Internet technologies - are in fact just a bunch of attention-deprived megalomaniacs who have found a new way to digitally masturbate. Specifically, via the aforementioned digital wank fest known as Twitter.

If you do know what Twitter is…I’m sorry. Really. But I’m here to tell you there’s still time to save yourself from devolving into a wanker! Just keep reminding yourself that posting worldwide billboards of your fortune cookie length declarations of whatever brontosaurus-sized thought you’re currently having holds no more socially redeeming or technologically positive impact than shitting your name in the snow and watching it harden. You’ll make it, darling, You’re not lost yet!

However, if you use and are currently hyping Twitter…well, Doris. You’re a hopelessly fucked moron. Do future generations a favor and just stab yourself in the genitals with a bayonet before you procreate. “Micro-blogging”?! Are you kidding me?! WHO GIVES A FUCK?! You can’t find anything better to do with that extra 15 seconds of your day than pollute the already 94% spam and porn filled internet with your mental dry heaves? Call your mom. Donate some sperm. Mend a bird’s wing. There’s gotta be something better you can be doing with your micro-time than micro-shitting all over the Web.

*sigh*

Count…to…ten…

Alright.

I’m done.

But seriously. If you’re using Twitter? You’re an misguided oxygen-wasting jackass.

…to KILL YOU WITH!

It is the Broodwich. Forged in darkness from wheat harvested in hell’s half acre, baked by Beelzebub, slathered with mayonnaise beaten from the evil eggs of dark chicken forces into sauce by the hands of a one-eyed mad man, cheese boiled from the rancid teat of a fanged cow, layered with 666 separate meats from an animal which has maggots for blood.

And dijon mustard.