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When I’m IGing or Tumbling, it’s fun, easy and I appreciate what I see.

If I meet someone cool out clubbing, I’ll give them my IG because then we can interact but at a distance. I mean, they might be a nutter. They might be a Tory. And so they don’t know all my personal bullshit like it used to be on FB, adding randoms.

More importantly, unless they post up screencaps, I don’t see weird Daily Mail posts like I used to on FB. The people I add generally post up selfies, cat pics, pics of their food or perhaps holidays. The minutiae of everyday life that I find fascinating.

On Tumblr, if someone posts a lot of stuff that I find too snarky / prejudiced / annoying, I’ll simply unfollow them. It’s not a big deal and it doesn’t mean I hate them or we’re now in a Sicilian vendetta like it used to when deleting people on FB.

With celebrities, like markruffalo , I find both IG and Tumblr to be easy, enjoyable parasocial engagement. It doesn’t feel as stalky as Twitter or FB fan pages. There is at least the illusion of equality which is very rare. And I can reblog his posts about fracking or going to the Oscars and it feels okay. I know we’re not really friends but it’s a nifty direct line to A Famous Person.

The behemoth of FB staggers on but it’s all pure momentum now; most people I know who are on it do not like being on it. They’re twitchy, given the slightest opportunity to jump ship, they will. They just can’t.

So, the next social thing?

I think it’ll be something easy and… FUN. Once a social website becomes a duty, becomes something you have to have just because, well, it’s dead. I think there’s a space forming for something that preserves anoymity as both IG and Tumblr do but is also open to forging deeper social contact, as both also enable.

I get so much great info from Tumblr, I’ve learned so much about transpeople’s issues that I was ignorant of before and I will use that to check my cis privilege. The people I follow post up stupid things that make me giggle and news stories that make me cry. They post news I cannot find elsewhere on the net, thus my Tumblr has become the perfectly personalised news source that Microsoft, Google et al have been trying to crack for ages. And Tumblr have done it by accident!

Obviously, everything is flux. Tumblr might be gone in a year, IG may have collapsed. Excluding sleepy villages like Last.fm and Flickr, the social web moves pretty fast.

I’m quite excited to see what’s next.

Existential Clubbing

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SO, my pics are auto-posting across from Instagram now and, fucking hell, what a weekend.

I get so happy from clubbing! I get so much from dancing to music that I love, bonding with random people while screaming Title Fight at each other, hanging with my mates and watching them deal very sternly with dodgy blokes creeping on them.

And there were so many peeps out this weekend who I haven’t seen in aaaages, like Court, above. I thought Valentine’s weekend would be a bag of wank but it’s the best time I’ve had in… well… I’m not sure!

When I look at the mirror at my conventionally very unattractive male body (no rippling abs here, no lovely toned arms), I’m so happy that my body lets me dance two or three times a week, that I’m able to have adventures and stay up till 6am talking shit with strangers. It’s fucking amazing, when I think about it.  After seeing both my parents go through near-fatal cancers, I love my body in a way I never did before. It’s beautiful, I love it.

And, one day, I’ll probs be too old to get let into clubs or too infirm to go dancing. That’s why I’m making the most of every moment I can. And consciously aware of every choice I make, when I approach someone new, the possibilities that open up. When I don’t, the universes that wither and die. You never know.

Now, if I could just meet a woman who lived for dancing and chaos and the stochastic joy of clubbing as much as I do… *imagines*

Jaffa Cakes

Look at this thread.

I’ve noticed this recently. The McVities jaffa cakes are rank now; they seem smaller overall and the orangey bit is pathetically tiny. Also, the base is all bleurgh and squishy. The base of the Sainsbury’s Basics jaffa cake is crisp and then soft inside, like a jaffa cake is meant to be.

The test of a pukka jaffa, which I’ve been carrying out weekly since I was around five, is how easily the biscuit bears up to being disassembled. Piggling the choc off the top and then separating the organgey bit from the sponge… mmm…

The Sainsbury’s Basic biccie passes the test easily. But, though it’s possible with the McVities, it just make me angry and question all of existence when I get to the tiny orange bit.

OKC VS. POF

As much as I slag off Ok Cupid, it’s light years ahead of Plenty Of Fish.

My “matches” on POF are the most random array of very pretty but completely dull and incompatible people. I’ll see someone who’s really cute, my finger will hover over the ‘Message Now!’ linky but I’ll never press it because, really, what is the point.

And please FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK, stop going about drinking wine by a roaring fire and great fucking long walks in the countryside and fucking Zumba and fucking Bodypump… fucking hell…

ARGHHH

I know I’m a weirdo but POF just makes me feel like there’s no-one who actually reads or goes on demonstrations or goes clubbing or does ANYTHING AT ALL.

Most profiles have zero interests. That’s right, these people have no interests whatsoever.

That’s gonna make for a fucking scintillating date, innit?

Modern Annoyances, Part &FFEF

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In a nutbag, this is how I feel.

I am not anti-tech, I don’t believe all that “look-up” shite. But I do like actually having conversations with humans. And that’s hard when everything gets reduced to stop-starty statements because they’re always on their fucking phone.

I’ve had this a lot lately. It gets particularly irritating when you have to repeat the same point two or three times. And it always makes me wonder: why is your time more valuable than mine? Why do I have to sit waiting for you to finish your parasocial pimping?

I don’t actually mind people answering calls, it’s more the incessant checking of FB newsfeed or Tumblr dash.

So, yeah, just call me Unabomber and build my cabin in a nice forest…