Mr Key is pleased to announce that readers, obsessives, and persons of a bonkers disposition can now follow Hooting Yard on Witter. As you may already know, Witter is an exciting new social networking service, designed for people with pea-sized brains who want to shrink them further, even unto the point of invisibility. The idea is that, every fifty years, “witterers†write an account of their doings, in beautiful if somewhat clogged handwriting, on sheets of vellum, and roll the sheets up, and seal them with wax, and carry them around the countryside, stopping every now and then to accost a wayfarer or a peasant, whom they shove into a ditch, and to whom they then read the “witterâ€, aloud, and at length. I think you will all agree that this is a splendid new way to get the Hooting Yard message across to folk far and wide.
Witter should not be confused with a similar service, recently popularised by, among others, the Most Intelligent Life-Form Ever To Walk The Earth, otherwise known as Stephen Fry, who cleverly uses it to demonstrate his command of childish scatological exclamations, to the delight of a thankful nation.
“All man’s miseries derive from not being able to sit quietly in a room alone.” – Pascal
I commend your denigration of the charlatan Fry…
It is obvious, even to the casual observer, that he is fast becoming Robert Robinson…
O.S.M.
OSM : Now hang on there a minute! Robert Robinson, the Mighty Robinson of Call My Bluff & Brain of Britain, is a man to be reckoned with. Age shall not wither his superb Robertrobinsonness. Alright, he is indeed withering, but slowly, and with grace, and with his brain still burning bright.
Now I had better go and lie down, having switched on my Etheric Portal.
The “twitosphere” was full of news that Mr. Fry was once trapped in an elevator for a few brief minutes one blustery day last week.
Had he not sent this vital knowledge to the thousands of fawning acolytes who follow his every bowel motion the cosmic repercussions of this cataclysm would now be lost to the minds of a deaf and ignorant world.
Woe is me…!
In the cold light of day I now see that I have insulted the great Mr. Robinson and should have written..
Fry (spits in bucket) obviously has ambitions to steal the mantel from the withered shoulders of the great man..
Which will hang about him like a giant’s clothing on a dwarfish thief..
It stems for my flying into a fit of uncontrollable rage anytime I see the word ‘fry’ without it being followed by the word ‘up’..
O.S.M.
(now where did I put my Cameo album..?)
I’ve looked up “Twitter” and now I’m anxious and confused. This Twitter device just lets me read Stephen Fry’s mind, not the other way around, right?