The Obsession With Twitter: A Nevin Barich Blog Experience

Would someone explain to me this obsession with Twitter?

Here's how I understand it:

Someone signs up for a Twitter account and he or she does nothing but let you know what he or she is thinking or doing or seeing or eating or drinking at any point throughout the day.

And people can sign up and follow you on Twitter, so that you can know what someone other than yourself is thinking or doing or seeing or eating or drinking at any point throughout the day.

Sound about right?

My wife -- Daily News sports columnist Ramona Shelburne -- has a Twitter account and more than 1,200 followers. She's always asking me to follow her on Twitter and my answer is always the same:

Honey, we're married. I already know what you're thinking or doing or seeing or eating or drinking at any point throughout the day. Now you want me to follow that online?

When you said we needed to communicate more, I assumed you meant, you know, talking.

But apparently, I'm living in the past.

And beyond that, why is it so interesting to following the twits...

Is it twits or tweets? Is it tweets? It's tweets, isn't it? Jesus.

Why is it so interesting to follow the tweets of people you don't know? At least on Facebook, I know these people (or have at least met them). But I really don't care that Shaquille O'Neal has finished a burrito. Or that Jessica Simpson found great shoes. Or that Jennifer Aniston insists that she and John Meyer are still good friends.

I just don't care. And I don't know why others care when I don't care.

By the way, while writing this blog, Ramona walked into the house, found out I was writing about Twitter and told me that the reason I don't get Twitter is because I'm not following her on Twitter and maybe if I joined the 1,200-plus other morons who followed her on Twitter, I would become a moron who understood it too.

I'm paraphrasing a smidge. :-)

Listen, for those of you who tweet regularly, let me say this:

I know you have thoughts.

I know you have feelings.

I know you have a voice yearning to be heard.

But no one gives a damn.

I mean, I'm sorry, but you're just not interesting. You did the laundry? Good for you. You LOLed at the latest episode of Glee? Great. Got bad gas? Maybe you should keep that to yourself.

The world was less complicated when folks didn't share anything. Simple were the days when we kept everything inside.

One final note:

I have just joined Twitter.

Because I'm actually funny.

:-)

And now for this week's:

SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE

To be honest, this isn't a real SOTS, but I had to share: A few months ago for my birthday, Ramona got me tickets to the USC-Stanford football game today. I'm a longtime USC fan and she's a Stanford alum. USC lost 55-21, the most points they've ever given up.

Thanks for the tickets, babe.

But next year for my birthday gift, get me a colon cleansing. I think I'd enjoy that more.