Follow You, Follow Me.


While having 518 Twitter followers is reasonably modest, imagine us all walking down the street.

It would be a pedestrian nightmare that would rouse police interest. I’d look like a latter-day Pied Piper, with fewer pedophilic leanings. I say "fewer", when I of course mean "no". Or "none". The English language is confusing.  

I probably wouldn't be able to be assimilated by a mountain, though I'm happy to give it a whirl. I'd run at it and hope for the best. 

Picture all 519 of us - I’ve included myself - at a pelican crossing. We’d never get across in the allotted time. Also, who would press the button? I wouldn't do it; I don’t want to be responsible for everyone else. Unless we took out public liability insurance, but I’m not going to fund it.

What it we went for a meal in a Harvester? They’d never seat us. It would take an eon for the staff to ask us all if we'd ever been before, and then we’d decimate the salad cart. It’s not the right venue for such a big group.

Corralling a 500-strong swarm would be a full-time job. I'd also feel like Jesus. Let’s keep things online for now. Ask me again in a few weeks and I may feel different.

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