It never ends, this shit.
Now I don’t know who @HowardIsANet is, but I love his gumption. A couple of hours ago, he tweeted that the radio station WFAN660 was reporting that free agent cornerback Nnamdi Asomugha was going to the New York Jets’ headquarters.
@HowardIsANet has four followers and about ten tweets. Not a very respectable source, right? Just the type of account that somebody like @NFLDraftInsider might want to ignore after what happened last time.
Update: By request, I’ve added a few more details about how this whole thing originated.
Though we’ve only had it for a few years, it’s already hard to picture a world without Twitter. The simple social network is the Information Age equivalent of crack, allowing us instant access to thoughts and facts from millions of people all across the world. Almost every piece of news breaks on Twitter first. Sometimes, during particularly embarrassing lapses of judgement, news breaks because of Twitter. This one simple website gives us an unprecedented level of access to the world.
There’s just one problem with Twitter: People are stupid.
The following story was originally published in Issue 3 of Kill Screen Magazine, which you can purchase online. Special thanks to Chris Dahlen for being a superstar editor.
It’s summer, 2000. Camp’s busy and bustling; all the boys are out playing sports or getting food or hanging with the girls. But not me. I’m sitting inside my bunk, doodling in a notebook, because the day before camp started I’d first set up my own Multi-User Dungeon—or MUD—a virtual world that I could shape at my discretion. Read the rest of this entry »
1. If you Google something in the forest and there’s nobody around to hear it, does Google still sell your search data to advertisers?
2. You meet two men on the road. One says, “I cannot tell a lie.” The other says, “I just texted a picture of my dick to a stranger.” Which one is telling the truth?
3. What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening — and tweets about it the whole fucking time?
Dear Mario,
It’s over. You win. You’ve almost completely defeated my army. I spent yesterday afternoon calling Goomba wives and informing them that their husbands were killed in action. Have you ever heard a Goomba woman cry? It’s haunting.
Today I have to ask my supplier for a new shipment of Bob-ombs. They don’t come cheap, you know. We have special camps set up in Saudi Arabia. It typically takes five years to convince a Bob-omb to leave his family and join the cause. Then we have to get him here. Do you know how difficult it is to get a Bob-omb past airport security?
