Twitter, Trevor and Total Ownage

Posted: March 9, 2013 in MiB Hates Us All

Despite my countless sermons and vocal abhorrence of the stain on society known as social media, I kind of Judas-ed out on myself and sold my soul to Twitter. Now, my off-hand response to any accusations by people who are accusing me of making hair-cruxes and starting down the road to becoming Baldemort is “I did it for the blog” but the true reason is that I just wanted to have a front-row seat to watch how humanity sums up its stupidity in 140 characters or less. Bite-sized idiocy, I like to call it – hors d’oeuvres of horse-assery, if you will. If you are one of the aforementioned accusers and that answer doesn’t satisfy you, then my specialized clock has some advice for you – the big hand says “Go” and the little hand says “Fuck”, and I can’t really see from here but I think the second hand says either “Yourself” or “A Donkey”.

Anyway, I entered the Twittersphere about a week ago filled with trepidation and foreboding but also a sense of excitement; I was a new-age Zheng He, fearlessly traversing uncharted territory. (For those of you who are shamefully unacquainted with the great Zheng He, he was a Muslim Chinese explorer who had bigger balls than Columbus and Marco Polo combined despite being castrated, mainly because he knew where the fuck he was going). I tweeted sporadically, giving my opinion here and there on why the Pope is a hillbilly hand-fisher and why the Warner Brothers should “go and fucketh thyselves”. But I mainly kept on the down-low, laughing shamelessly at either people’s professions of undying love to each other with emoticons galore or their semi-secondly life updates, most of which are less interesting than a Chappies wrapper. Oh, and the religious tweets too – how could I forget the religious tweets?!? If you are one of those twats that tweets quotes from the Bible/Qur’an/The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I would like to just point out to you that nobody gives a fuck, and those who do should be force-fed the flavoured diarrhoea known as Wakaberry. Plus, if the Divine intended to limit His message to humanity to 140 characters, I’m pretty sure it would be something along the lines of “I exist, so worship Me. Follow my homies @TheProphets. Oh, and don’t be a cunt. Peace out – c u on the other side. PS it was the chicken ;)”

[I might have just committed 12 different kinds of blasphemy right there]

But the climax of my new-born twatting came just two nights ago at the hands of a celebrity, who kindly wrangled my tweeting experience in its infancy and then garrotted it to boot. Ramses II was kinder to new-born things, and he had a plague of fucking frogs rained on him by God.

It all started when my best friend extraordinaire sent me this:


Being an awesome badass and thus never backing down from a dare or an opportunity to be an awesome badass, I wracked my neurons at the speed of 4G and came up with this:


Now, admittedly, in retrospect, that wasn’t the best tweet ever tweeted, but it was still better than the other questions Trevor was being asked:

You, sir, have the common sense of a donut

You, sir, have the common sense of a donut

Plus, I thought it was biting and witty and pretty Samuel L Jackson in the second line, and most importantly, I thought that Trevor Noah would NEVER reply.

So imagine my face when I saw this:

Ah, fucksticks

Ah, fucksticks

That was just the start to what quickly degenerated into an evening on par with Kristallnacht in terms of total ownage.

Because immediately after that, my “Mentions” were flooded with a fucking tsunami of retweets, many of them irradiated with “Lol”s and “Lmfao”s and the occasional “Eish” – it was like Japan all over again. (I know that doesn’t exactly make sense, but fuck it, the metaphor lan away flom me).

The worst part was that I didn’t even think of Wi-Fi on an aeroplane as a reasonable explanation. I’m sorry, Mr Noah, but when non-celebrities with Arabic names take out so much as a shoe on a flight, they usually find themselves on the less-pleasant end of a rubber glove. Not that the other side is much more pleasant… Anyway, my point is that I got fucked, solidly, by a celebrity, in public, and he didn’t even have the courtesy to give me a reach-around.

I know I said that was the worst part, but the worstest part is yet to come. Because it was round about then that my best friend and my loving cousin got wind of this PWNAGE and decided to console me.

Let’s deal with my cousin (FRZ) first – what follows is a transcript of our WhatsApp conversation:

FRZ: What the fuck were you thinking?!?

MiB: I dunno. It was funny to me at the time. Until he responded.

FRZ: You really should proofread your tweets.

MiB: At least Trevor Noah knows who I am now. So there.

FRZ: Yep – you’re the ballsack that believes that there is no such thing as in-flight Wi-Fi.

MiB: Fuck you. Ah… varsity is going to be hell tomorrow.

FRZ: So don’t go.

MiB: And what? Tell my parents that I can’t go because of a tweet? That will go down just fine and fucking dandy.

FRZ: No… Say your ass is sore. You know… Coz you got fucked so hard.

MiB: Do me a favour – fuck off. A little more. A liiiittle bit more. In fact, just keep fucking off until you get back here so I can tell you to fuck off again.

At this point, I was miffed, angry and about as pissed off as a fat woman with PMS and without any ice-cream. My torture, however, was about to be compounded tenfold when my dear cousin tweeted my dear best friend, inviting her to get #trevorfuckedmib trending – I swear, innocent people in Guantanamo Bay get fucked over less than I did that night.


Which resulted in:




Someone clearly doesn’t understand the meaning of the word “adore”

All in all, the night ended in a glorious petit mort of 94 retweets, 17 favourites and 4 new followers, one of which was named CabbaJive Khaba. Thank you, CabbaJive. Your support means the world.

I suppose such events in one’s life are supposed to result in some sort of moral – and I think I nailed this one right on the money:


[I perfected the art of being fucked over on the Internet after countless hours spent under Sensei Asa Akira in the mystical Tube of Red. Follow me on Twitter @MibHatesUsAll to keep up with more of my shenanigans and to allow me to insult you virtually. If massive online rape-by-best-friends-and-dear-cousins is your thing, you can follow @SeriFairy and @FRZ_04 too. Also, subscribe to the blog – all you have to do is type in your email address to the left, which takes the same amount of effort as jacking off a Rhesus monkey. Not that I know from personal experience – I’m just assuming that professional Rhesus monkey-jackers have an easy job. If there are any monkey-masturbators reading this, keep it up. Science needs you. The world needs you. But most of all, the monkey needs you. Thank you. That is all]

© 2012-2013 All Rights Reserved


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