I hate that Fail Whale.

It's another one of those terrible evenings - I don't really want to go on Twitter, and I don't particularly have anything interesting or insightful to share, but I just want to know that it's there. That the world is still there and functioning as it should be. Like some sort of cultural test card, or discursive muzak - reassuring to just have on in the background.

But hell, I hate that Fail Whale. His smug little cephalopodic gob grinning back at me as if it's all none of his fault, 'nothing to do with me guv'nor'. He's the bloody Fail Whale, he should man up and take some responsibility.

"Twitter is over capacity". How I hate that phrase. It sounds like a party I'm not invited to - it doesn't say that Twitter is broken, merely that I can't get in. There are too many people inside having too much fun. Come back later, when all of the cool people have gone home and everyone else is throwing up in the bushes.

Well screw you, social media. I don't need you or the whale you rode in on. I've got real friends. Well, I've got the television. I'm sure there must be something on I can watch. But you see, normally I'd check on Twitter and see what's good...