I've just got back from a long day away, but even in the sodden air of Husborne Crawley this soaking evening I can feel the frost over the Hnaef household.
I blame Hnaef's obsession with Social Networking. I mean, he goes off finding these "friends" on Facebook even though he doesn't actually know them. Then he has a "tweet up" with them (or whatever the Facebook equivalent is - a "face off" or something, I dare say). Then he discovers they're a different gender, or a 6'3" sheet welder called Dorothy or something.
You know what the trouble is when you start getting increasingly into this virtual, social networking world? You get deeper into it. You find all your friends on it. You life revolves around it. You can't drag yourself away from it. Eventually you find out that you don't have any existence in real life at all. But will Hnaef listen? No. He's too busy talking to Ann Boleyn on Twitter. I ask you. I might as well be imaginary, for all the notice he takes of me these days.
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