Alison Goulding: ‘I’m 30 soon, this is unacceptable’

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YOU can’t swing a cat without hitting someone who hates Twitter.

Once we were suspicious of MySpace.

Then we drifted to Friends Reunited, before realising it was a hotbed for affairs with former classmates.

We settled for Facebook, grew to hate Facebook even more than MySpace and Friends Reunited put together, opened a Twitter account and then decided that was equally repulsive.

And yet very few of us can leave them alone.

So I decided to put on my lab coat and conduct a scientific experiment to determine whether Twitter is Satan’s jockstrap or Ghandi’s neckerchief.

Over the course of an hour I checked my Twitter feed and noted down both the best and worst tweets.

Here are the findings:

Best: Sat on train heading to the city. I thought I saw Victoria Beckham in first-class but it was an old man’s walking stick

Analysis: Light-hearted, witty.

Worst: BEER!

Analysis: Oh for God’s sake.

Best: Good luck to everyone taking part in the @RatRaceHQ River Rat Race this weekend in aid of St Oswald’s!

Analysis: Can’t argue with charity well-wishing.

Worst: The oyster turns into pearl the sand which annoys it.

Analysis: Yes it does do that. And then the sand destroys the oyster by turning it into a prized commodity, sought after by humans who will remove the pearl, sell it, and then throw the poor oyster in the bin.

Best: Hello there sexy. Would you like a free book? [some kind of link to click on] There you go. You’re welcome. Now RT til your ***** stings.

Analysis: Everyone likes a compliment, and free stuff. Not sure about the ‘stinging’ reference but this was the best of a bad bunch.

Worst: If you don’t quit, you cannot fail!

Analysis: Really, really not true. Part of being a grown up is recognising that there’s a point where you need to give up.

It was definitely easier to find stupid Tweets than it was to find good ones.

But I also realised I was skating on thin ice within a glass house while throwing stones at people.

A scan of my own account revealed my own banal online skeletons.

Sure, I’d retweeted a few worthy causes, complimented a friend’s hair, fair enough. But I also tweeted this:

“The fairies have bought me a Snickers to heal my germs”.

I’m 30 soon, this is unacceptable.

More research showed that out of the 771 people I follow, I know roughly five.

On Twitter’s ugly sister, Facebook, I fare a bit better.

Out of 182 Facebook friends I know 99 per cent of them. The rest are friends of friends, M’lud.

But I’m still a social networking div.

Probably the most valuable contribution I’ve made to the world via Facebook is a photo of me riding a horse with my arms out to the side like Rose in Titanic.

We are all idiots online, just as we are in real life.

Let’s not pretend we all went around being perfect and saying profound things before Mark Zuckerberg hatched.