Hey Twitter, I've met your terrorist

I've met a few people on Twitter over the past year. They've all been nice and pretty much just how I expected them to be after exchanging emails and tweets and speaking to people who've already met them. They're known for being successful and lovely and have tons of followers because of that. But the two people from Twitter I met last night are different. They tick those boxes for the wrong reasons. And they are two of the loveliest, bravest and bloody amazingest (yes it's a word, and what) people I have ever met. FACTOID.


London was cold and busy last night. I was on Oxford Street with my "I'm NOT leaving you in London on your own on a Friday night!" mum finding somewhere to have dinner. We went to Strada, obvs, and after pleading for a table we got comfy and I ordered a delightful rare delicacy of SPAG BOL.


"So who are we meeting here?" 
"Well you know the Twitter Joke Trial fiasco?"
"*silence, tumbleweed*" 
"Okay well basically this man threatened to blow up an airport and he was arrested and is now going through court stuff." 
".......I do worry about what you get yourself into Louise."


She doesn't understand. She will never understand. She will never get Twitter.

I've wanted to blog on the #twitterjoketrial for months, but every time I've gone to do it, I end up just repeating words that everyone else on the bloody Twitter planet has already said. It's ridiculous. It's a joke. It's fucked up Paul Chambers' life and the lives of his family, because of a few odd people who clearly have no sense of humour and spend their lives wrapped up in cotton wool. Well thank you very much Few Odd People (let's call them FOP), you've now transferred some of your suffocating cotton wool to Paul and basically the whole of Twitter. And we don't like you, FOP. We're gonna stick by Paul until the very end of this shitxperience when his life regains many LOLs and when you realise what fools you are. FOP OFF. AMEN. *collapses*


Well that was a nice speech/rant. A sprant. Where was I? Where am I? WHO AM I?! Oh. *ahem*


After having my nose pressed against the restaurant window for half an hour, metaphorically, I spotted a rather tall @pauljchambers and a rather wrapped up @crazycolours coming in. Two hours later we were full of Italian (food not people) and conversationed (I should make my own dictionary) out. We (I say 'we', it was more just me, Paul and CrazyColours ((that's her REAL NAME)) cos mum had no clue what we were talking about most of the time, bless her) talked about Twitter, blogging, the trial, The Apprentice, Ireland, London, school, and other stuff. C'est amazeballs. It was like on Twitter. But in person. I know right, ACTUAL conversation, whodathunkit.


CONCLUSIONS *pushes glasses up, smokes pipe, strokes beard*: They are the best people from Twitter I've ever met. They're polite, interesting, interested, chatty, friendly, lovely, funny and a whole other hoard of adjectives. And they most definitely do not deserve all the crap they've had to go through over the past year.  If he's a terrorist then I'm an evil unicorn. Yeah. AN EVIL UNICORN.

Oh, and referring back to my earlier "WHO AM I?!" question, I am Spartacus.