Twitter: Catchpocket For A Hopelessly Leaky Brain

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, and pity me:

*  It cannot possibly be December already. I am returning to bed and when I get back up I expect this to be FIXED.

*  Kittens are trying to break into my office. It sounds like the smallest and most rubbish zombie attack ever.

*  Join my Xmas Eve tradition: sit in a barn all night shrieking that an invisible space god put a parasite inside you and it’s coming out

* good morning sinners. the fishpond has iced over and so have my eyes

*  Warren stares at important work. Warren must concentrate and summon intellect. CUT TO: INSIDE WARREN’S BRAIN: http://bit.ly/UJ2w7M

*  just stating my availability for the post of BBC Director General. my first act would be to change that title to Dear Leader

*  If you analysed my folder of email with @mollycrabapple you would find the most frequently used words to be "shut", "up" & "Molly"

*  I like to think that @benhammersley releases his moustache into the streets of London at night to devour weaker moustaches during Movember.

*  [Oct 31 ] A depressing night for my agent to refuse to pitch my new musical horror project THE KING AND I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE

*  My daughter has just accused me of being so old that I "remember when fire first came out."

*  "CRUSH THEM LIKE MONKEY" may be the worst piece of advice I’ve ever given to another writer. Or the best. One of the two.