Personal tweet: almost 20,000 followers. 10 times the population of my hometown.
Not surprising, since every post on Lowetide includes one of Dreger's relatives spamming it with links to his Twat.
Looking forward to this Tweetle from Dreger:
Just checked my head size: 7 7/8.
Where would I have been on Draft Day without this nugget from Dreger's Twit:
Brian Burke is in Europe, believed to be trying to lure Jonas Gustavsson to Toronto. www.tsn.ca10:46 AM Jul 1st from mobile web
I may not be 10x more popular than the high school QB (Dreger's subtext, let's be honest), but come on, this was a better Tweet:
What The World Needs Now is not more Priuseses. Hippies. Or Burt Bacharach revivals.
And this was a gem that should be in Bartlett's:
The Oilers: Fucked? Or Totally Fucked?
Couple of the comments were classic Celebrity Death Jokes:
I notice Billy Mays was still flogging gardening tools on CNBC this morning...I wonder how much the undertaker charged for shipping and handling...
And:
Billy Mays arteries were clogged with Jiffy Putty.
Today's Twaddle from Art:
Me: Half as many followers as the population of my house.
2 comments:
If people use Twitter as their main source of information, why should newspapers be forced to print truth or facts? It's time to level the playing field.
I'm not sure newspapers are forced to print the truth. More of a convention, really.
When making shit up sold copies, newspapers made shit up. When it was more profitable to market themselves as a more credible news source than electronic media, newspapers peddled the truth, or at least a version of it.
Of course, there are libel laws, which puts constraints on a newspaper's ability to print outright fabrications, but only barely.
"Sources say the Senators are now asking for Sam Gagner...one former scout says Heatley is hated inside the Ottawa room...a former player who attended the draft said there were questions about (insert draft pick's name) character...."
Matheson's column writes itself. It should come with the disclamer: No actual persons, living or dead, are represented. Or try Leah McLaren:
"I've often wondered if I stared at my navel long enough, would it swallow me? Would my girlfriends hate me for being so perfect? Am I God? Not the God, but a god."
Facts entirely optional.
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