For a while, I had a capture of my twitter feed running here. It ended up doing something weird to my API calls, stopping me from running my desktop client, so I killed it. Which is probably just as well, as I talk a lot of shit on Twitter. It’s basically mental slurry, the wet lumpy bits from a day spent at the keyboard vented off into a trap so the buildup doesn’t blow some crucial valve in my head. Look at these, from the last month or so:
* "It shows us how profoundly haunted we are by what has not yet happened." – Steven Shaviro on science fiction writing.
* There. Now I can go back to spending the day talking about my genitals on Twitter like everybody else.
* Every time I look at magcloud.com I want to do a magazine and then have to spend 48 hrs talking myself out of it.
* So, did people have a good time at#mcmexpo? I would have been there longer, but Svet Chmakova needed to eat my brain to steal my wisdom.
* "manipulative entertainment technician" (Paul Morley, today’s Observer Music section)
* About to watch Emma Vieceli eat steak so undercooked that a vet could get it walking in an hour
* You never realise how much you’ve drunk until you walk outside. Why is that?
* I may have told one or two people to ask @Templesmithto "ride the squid" for them
* Words that never bode well: "single to Barking, please"
* I hope to one day be successful enough that I get my very own creepy sex stalker.
* In an interesting world, all porn stars would moonlight as contract killers, ramming strap-ons into the hearts of the evil.
* On the other hand, no-one needs the possibility of Ron Jeremy breaking into their place with a strap-on at midnight.
* (please be reminded of Warren’s Rule: if Warren has been awake less than 2 hrs, it is Morning, no matter what the clock says)
* augh christ this pre-noon "morning" you speak of is HORRIBLE
* Things I’ll never have time to write: 10,000 words on the relationship between Lady Gaga’s "Bad Romance" & Bo Diddley’s "Who Do You Love."
* "Ooo-ee Bo you know I understand" / "GaGa ooh la la"
* Wednesday Comics was a fun idea. But imagine a weekly regular-size comic full of 2-page chapters of original material…
* I have, in my career, been contacted by 3 paranoid schizophrenics who believed I was trying to destroy and/or kill them.
* One of them did however contact me to apologise for whatever it was he had done to deserve it.
* Middle-aged writer, English, seeks hypnotist to make him actually bloody do something today. Brain entirely absent.
* Good morning, fuckspores. Yet another horrible morning in this endless cold damp ash-covered hell we call "life." Smile.
* If anyone here is thinking about killing someone, please leave one of my books at the crime scene. I could use the press.
* May get a RAF aviator jacket if UK doesn’t warm up soon. Bonus: can reply to all queries with "chocks away" or "tally ho"
* Writing a long essay. "Magnetically-boiled brains"
* off to hunt down a pint of ale and devour its smooth body
* Ah, here’s Peter Mandelson, explaining to the BBC that he can never die before taking his escalator back to Hell
* I see the Queen has been activated. Much like the robotic tourist attraction she is.
* William Gibson says I have more twitter followers than Hugo Chavez. I believe this means he has to give me Venezuela now.
* Off to Soho. Which never sounds innocent, does it?
* Me: iTunes For Windows, would you please just open my library? iTunes For Windows: I would rather die than serve you.
* Shopping list for watching the election tomorrow night: beer, nuts, whisky, methadone, humane cow-killing bolt gun
* Listening to Mesmerised’s "DMT Symphony" and thinking about bone printers. I would enjoy printing my own bones.
* @kumimonsterack must not write drunk emails
* @kumimonsteri may possibly have just signed an email as "Prime Minister Batman"
* Tomorrow I will begin my political campaign by changing my twitter ID to PrimeMinisterBatman. Good night, bat-chums.
* Good morning, bat-voters.
* Am at the pub and all is right with the world.
* Prime Minister Batman is tired and would like to go to bed now.
* I will give a prize* to any UK voter who shows photo proof of a write-in vote for Prime Minister Batman on Thursday.
* ( * said "prize" may turn out to be, I dunno, old bits of my skin or something)
* A hard day of campaigning for Prime Minister Batman, kissing babies and passing on my hereditary gingivitis
* Prime Minister Batman is accepting that he will not be Prime Minister tomorrow. His is the batarang of sadness.
* Prime Minister Batman’s electoral batphone is not ringing. Does no-one want to cut a bat-deal to form a government?