Hamish Champ: Whadda load of old Twit!

I sincerely hope it's nothing to do with my age - though I suspect it might be - but I just can't get excited about stuff like 'Twitter'.

For those readers who have been stuck down the back of a sofa for the last couple of years, 'Twitter' is but the latest internet social networky updating, er… thingy. Put simply it enables those who 'Tweet' (v) to tell the rest of the world exactly what they're doing pretty much at the time they are doing it.

Famous 'Tweeters' include writer and broadcaster Stephen Fry - no spring chicken he, bless 'im - who has more than 50,000 'followers', the collective noun given to people who keep a beady eye out for his or indeed anybody else's 'Tweets'.

I thought Facebook was bad enough, with its 'what are you doing now?' activity updates. I once toyed with going for 'Hamish is…lying face down and lifeless in a muddy ditch after being whacked in a Mafia-style hit', until good taste steered me towards the rather anodyne '…getting ready to take his imaginary dog for a walk'.

I've been a reluctant member of Facebook for a while, but I'm afraid I can't be arsed with it anymore. I know many find it useful for keeping tabs with friends and family and I'm all for people communicating with each other, regardless of the method used.

I just think it sucks the very breath out of conversation. Particularly vexing is when it sends me an email saying a friend of mine has left me a message on my 'wall'.

If they want to get in touch why can't they just pick up the phone like a normal person? Sure they might be busy, but we could cover a lot in a five minute chat on the old dog and bone and they could still​ make their 10am meeting, washed down with a 'large frappacino decaff with half-fat milk froth and a cookie' combo.

Social networking/updating sites aren't the end of it. Don't get me started on people in pubs hunched over laptops, instead of conversing with their peers over a pint. And no, it's not​ the same as reading the papers with a drink in front of you. If you want to use the internet in public go to an internet cafe. The pub should be a haven from this sort of social atrophy.

Any road up, back to 'Tweeting'. We here at Publican Towers are being encouraged to 'Tweet'. Everyone's at it.

Well, nearly everyone. I fail to see who cares what I'm doing every minute of the day. I mean you​ don't, do you? No. But some of my colleagues love 'Tweeting'. So fair enough, let them 'Tweet'.

Come to think of it though, in a way I'm guilty of condemning that which I already do. After all, I try my best to proffer entertaining and informative observations via this here blog every week.

And what, you might ask, is the difference between that and a minute-by-minute account of someone's life as laid out on the 'Twit line'?

It would be a fair question and one which I'd love to answer. But you know what? I'm afraid I'm too busy getting ready to take my imaginary dog for a walk…