I signed up for Twitter a couple of Christmases ago. Bored, having spent¬†hours upon hours watching E4, including multiple repeats of a bizarre rape-themed episode of Veronica Mars, I decided to go online and see what all the fuss was about. I’d used Facebook and Myspace before, but Twitter, it seemed, gave its users the impression that they were friends with the likes of Barack Obama, Gary Busey and Tori Spelling. You could communicate with these people, write them little jokey comments or just plain insult them.

I could hardly contain myself when I pictured the prospect of being able to read hourly updates from MC Hammer, a rapper from the past with over 2,000,000 online followers. Sure, statistically, a great portion of those people were undoubtedly sociopaths and sex offenders, but the number was impressive nonetheless.

2,000,000 followers can't be wrong.

As time has passed, and tweeters have come and gone, I’ve discovered that the normal people on Twitter, the non-celebrities, are often the most exciting people to follow. Despite frequently dreaming of fleeing the constraints of modern civilisation so that I can live out the rest of my days in a cast iron masturbation hut, it’s the regular Joes that I like to hear about.

Regular Joe.

One of the first things that you notice when you start using Twitter are the tweeters who have adopted the foolproof tactic of randomly following absolutely everybody, and then sitting back to bask in the hundreds of followers that felt obliged to follow them back. After these people have achieved a healthy number of followers, of course, it’s time to unfollow everybody to make it look as if their inexplicable burst of popularity is due to their hilarious, witty tweets.

Tweets like this one perhaps:

HAHAHA! (Note: different Jack Sharp, unfortunately)

A perfect tweet.

This tweet accurately represents what all people tweet. Right now, as I type these words, thousands of people are expressing similar thoughts.

More politically-minded tweeters might tweet clumsy half-jokes about David Cameron and George Osbourne or aimless, ill-informed rants about American right-wing political commentators that they recently discovered after watching Russel Howard’s Good News. “That Glen Beck,” they might say, presuming that, because “Glen Beck” is trending, this must surely be the correct spelling of his name, “what an idiot!”

Down the side of a user’s Twitter dashboard is a section called “Trends”, which shows users what tweeters are talking about. If this section is accurate, British people like to talk almost exclusively about the X Factor, JLS, Justin Bieber and The Inbeweeners.

The inside of a human brain.

By clicking the trend “Rhianna is Sexy” we’re treated to a fascinating insight into the kind of person who uses Twitter, like this blunt, raw, uncut, tatted nurse bitch, for example.


Despite tweets like “NIGGAS WITH BELLY BUTTON TATTOOS ARE HOMOSEXUALS,” this person has managed to gain quite an impressive following, possibly due to the fact that 48% of her profile picture consists of breast. And not just any breasts, nippleless breasts with Photoshopped red hand prints on them, as if she’s been fondled by a jam-covered toddler or a murderous dwarf.


In one recent tweet, this user requested followers to tweet images of their genitals for her own personal amusement. This was greeted by a stream of cock-sure responses, mostly featuring pictures of overly-graphic, angry-looking erections and witty quips like the one below.

Hope you like the sexually aggressive comments of a possible rapist because, uh...yeah.

“My sex game is like my thought process, I dig deep,” boasts this user’s profile page. He’s also reportedly Latino and claims that he doesn’t wear “skinny” because “his third leg don’t fit.” And just in case you’re still not sure whether this is a person you want to receive regular 140 character updates from, he seals the deal by promising that as long as he has a face, there’ll be a place for you to sit. Although, judging from his profile picture, which consists solely of his pinky, toned torso, it’s difficult to tell if he even has a face, or whether the offer of sitting on it is still open to anybody who happens to stumble across his page.

Using inexplicably popular people like this as my guide, I’ve created my own fictitious tweeter — a self-proclaimed smooth twatter.

Twitter's biggest twat.

Despite having absolutely no charisma, Rex immediately gains two followers. One of Rex’s followers posts regular pleas begging for more followers, but regardless, they still count. Using the ridiculous haircut and punchable face of unlikable golfer Ian Poulter as idiot bait I get ready to commence tweeting. Something utterly meaningless should suffice.

“when I’m in my area, i call dat da rex zone. lol”

What I’ve just written, on the surface, appears to mean absolutely nothing, but this is the male equivalent of being a blunt, raw, uncut, tatted nurse bitch. This tweet lets other tweeters know that Rex Von Wicked is a hip, sexually active, semi-literate young person who loves to punctuate his tweets with nervous, unnecessary lols.

A minute passes and Rex gains another follower. They’ve taken the bait!

Time to get topical.

“#hollyoakslater is great because i love tits and swearing! lol”

Another minute passes and, bizarrely, I’ve gained six followers. Six followers because of two absolutely appalling tweets.

Time to follow myself so that I feel obliged to follow Rex Von Wicked in return. Then Rex Von Wicked can unfollow me, leaving me to feel dejected for not being followed by someone that I don’t like.

Several hours later…

At the time of writing this, Rex has 34 followers, roughly 4 less than my actual account has. Rex Von Wicked, with his crude, poorly written, meaningless musings, in just a few hours, is officially more popular than I am. With a personality that I’ve honed over the past 22 years or so, I’ve accomplished nothing. I have nothing to show for all the hard work and social awkwardness, but this website and a deep-seated hatred for all people. Yet, in just a few hours, Rex has become a minor sensation.

This is where I bid farewell to my past life. Goodbye. I’ll miss being an unpopular nerd, in a way. From this point onwards, I am Rex Von Wicked, freelance gynecologist. God, here it goes…

…But first, perhaps I should at least tell the people who have felt compelled to add me khow much I resent them for doing so.

“Why have you people followed me? I’m quite clearly a fucking idiot. What’s wrong with you people!?”

There. Now at least they know that they’re the idiots.

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