On Twitter Like Crack.

'Sup Tweeples,

It's been just over two months since I started Tweeting. The siren song of the little blue bird sucked me right in.

And I'm... well... kind of glad. Just don't tell the Man, OK? I have led him to believe I actually think Twitter is the devil's work, but I'm Tweeting low to infiltrate the heretics and cyber evangelists.

Or something.

I had envisioned Twitter would be, like FaceBook, just another blog-pimping tool. And believe you me, sunshine, it is fabulous for blog pimping. But it is so much more than that.

It's addictive.

It's exhilarating.

It's Twitterific!

*ahem* 

I know there are those of you among us who do not embrace the Twitter bird. Or have attempted to, but have not as yet given him a proper chance to prove his worth. I was the same. That's sad. He is misunderstood. And commonly associated with low brow celebrities and bad company, such as Ashton Kutcher and Kim Kardashian. The Twitter's Bird's tireless stance for charity, humor, social causes, vibrators, and YouTube clips goes unremarked.

The Twitter Bird loves the little people.

The most common In Real Life reaction I have got when I have mentioned that I am on Twitter like crack cocaine in the Cross is "So.. that's kind of like FaceBook, only just status updates... right?". (And insert dubious look that says 'Lori is a total loser' here).

Well, kinda. (About FaceBook, not being me a loser. That's true. I am a loser. And I'm OK with that).

Only totally not.

Twitter is FaceBook, supreme. And don't we know it, Tweeps? Yes, we do. There is a general sense of smug superiority when FaceBook is at least 15 minutes behind Twitter in terms of news breaking. And after the relative safety of Twitter, being on FaceBook makes you feel naked, exposed and vulnerable, like your in Westfields with no clothes on and everyone can steal all your images.

FaceBook is beige sludge of people's lives and kids and pets and problems. There are photo albums of mundane things, and a group for every small business that lives, breathes or has it's own domain name (including mine). FaceBook moves relatively slowly.

Twitter, in comparison, is more like a cyber LSD trip. Laced with links and news and funny stuff and good conversation and razor sharp wit and quotes you just wouldn't show your mum. (Unless, of course, she happens to be on Twitter too. Which could be uncomfortable).

And Twitter moves fast.

Like, real fast. For those of us who are used to FaceBook, it can be quite the rush.

News travels uber-quick on Twitter. No sooner has something happened- or someone thinks it may happen- and it's there, live in stream. And Tweeps are funny, with their fingers on the pulse and their balls in the air. So to speak.

#spill, anyone? Tell you what, I needed a cigarette and a cuddle after that ReTweet orgy.

You can waste all day on Twitter. Trust me. Check out this Tweep. And this one. And this one. And this one. Oh, and this one too. And then, of course, there's me.

I'll still be here in half hour or so when you get back.

Twitter spews information at you, ready for it or not. You can switch on your internal filter to separate the serious stuff from the funnies, depending on your mood. On my TweetDeck right now (you haven't got a TweetDeck...? You totally need one of those.) are links to the following-

 *A picture of IKEA 

*The view from space of the Northern Lights 

*Sarah Palin being stupid

*A cake that looks like a jar of Vegemite (umm... yeah.. I Tweeted that one.) 

And of course, a Tweet or two about the BP oil spill. The spill (different from the #spill) is a constant topic on Twitter. Which can only be a good thing, given the relatively small media real estate the issue occupies in Australia.

Tweeps discuss kids, food, wine, current events, social trends, ideas, thoughts and any other damn thing they please. And a deeper beauty of Twitter, compared to FaceBook- most of your Tweeps are relatively anonymous- not people you know In Real Life. (And again; unless, of course, you mum happens to be on there. Again, possibly uncomfortable). So you can bitch, whinge and say nasty things about your in-laws till your little hearts content. Or I can, anyway. Not that I would do that. Hi, Jan.

Whatever. Family members aside, if you offend someone, or they offend you, obviously your Tweetship is not to be. So you UnFollow them, or they UnFollow you, and everything is jellybeans. No one gets their virtual panties in a twist. There are millions of Tweeple out there. You're not going to get on with all of them.

So... if you're not on Twitter, what the hell are you doing with your time? It'll rock your world.

That Twitter bird, he's not as scary as you think. Multi-faceted, addictive, time-stealing, and either devoid of a social conscience or far too full of one (depending on who you talk to), why, he's all that and a bit more.

But scary? No way.