'It does exactly what it says on the tin.'
Would you fuck the fuck off? Does nobody else come down with a proper sense of ire when they see this used abysmally, horribly and abortively out of its original context?
It was an advertisement for varnish, for the love of gravy. Now it's trundled out every time some product or person does exactly what it or he or she set out to do in the first place. There is seldom, if ever, a tin involved.
'That freezing fog, it's cold, it does exactly what it says on the tin.'
Fucking Twitter. FUCKING Twitter. This is the kind of shit I'm faced with every time I log into it, this and the disgusting use of the word 'awesome' by people who really should know an awful lot better.
'Queued for an hour to see Avatar but it sold out as I neared the top of the line. Cinema fail LOL.'
Fucking Twitter. Honest to fuck I only go in there looking for a way to get out of there, and my recent cull - bringing those I follow from a bloated mid-fifties to a tolerable mid-twenties - has still not dulled the level of hatred I feel for it.
I've gone to delete my profile from it thrice now and turned back, but fuck it, here I go...
(The following action is not reversible.)
Fuck that feels good.
If I could do it again, I would. I'd nearly create a new profile, connect with scores of people I've never met, gabble on about ROFL and LMAOs and delete it all over again because damn if this semi isn't about to go full throttle.
Irish blogging is dead, or dying, apparently. This is because of one man's (he's a good lad, not a personal attack) decision to foresake the long form for the 140-character ejaculation of text mirth. He's seen as the tip of the iceberg, Jean Claude, the straw that broke the camel's tin of Ronseal Quick Drying Woodstain LOL.
Well, I persist. Fuck Twitter.