Posting you’re not posting.

I love social media. Some of the funniest people I know inhabit Facebook and Twitter on a regular basis and my life is the better for it.

There are places where it falls down obviously. I love you all, but I’m not bothered about what your Christmas elves are up to, I don’t want to see your retweets of people praising you (seriously, enough of the twanking – enjoy the compliment privately) and there are swathes of people who need to be banned until they figure out the difference between your and you’re. That last one is mainly to ensure I never have to take blood pressure medication.

My latest personal social media hell is people letting me know their Christmas card arrangements. Seriously if you can’t be arsed to write them – fine by me! We are all busy people, and completely understand. Don’t feel you need to cushion the blow by revealing that you are giving the money you ‘would have spent’ to charity. That’s lovely, but secretly we still all know the main driving force is that you can’t be arsed.

Also Christmas cards cost approximately half a million pounds (with another quarter mill on postage because you missed the second class posting date, back in September) so you probably need to up that charitable donation.

And if you’re still determined to not be arsed to write me a card, please don’t pretend that you are the better person for it (“everyone throws them away anyway…if we all did it charities would be rolling in cash…think of the trees”) as I can’t handle a serving of superiority on the side. We all remember that time you asked us to help you raise a barn roof on FarmVille – trust me, you’re in no position to judge.


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