Thursday, 1 August 2013

Too Much Fuckwittery

There's only so much fuckwittery I can stand, and sacerdotus has pretty much filled my daily quota. While I feel a strange sense of accomplishment for getting myself added to the list of accounts he's trying to get suspended from twitter, I'm getting rather annoyed that so many decent, rational people are getting spam-blocked everyday that my followers counter keeps going up and down like a Catholic priest's cock in a choir lesson!  

Here's the email I've just fired off to twitter:


Re: Breach of ToS

I'm writing to complain about @sacerdotus and his sock-puppet account @yearoffaith2012.

These accounts have been repeatedly abusing the report spam facility to get anyone he disagrees with, especially atheists, suspended from twitter and actively encouraging his followers to do the same. 

This has been pointed out to the @Twitter and @support accounts numerous times and by numerous people, often with links or pics of evidence and yet nothing has, as yet, been done. 

If this breach of the terms of service was being carried out against any other minority group I have no doubt that you would be quick to respond and yet it seems as though your company is willing to turn a blind eye to discrimination against unbelievers. 

I would appreciate it if you could clarify your position on this matter and await your response.


  1. I was commenting to someone earlier, maybe its time to leave Twitter. If this is the way they are treating people now then are they worth the time of day. T

    o elaborate if people say irrational things on a world wide platform they deserve the criticisms they get. This saucerdots person is abusing this platform position and twitter is gleefully helping.

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  3. Tooooo much whorizontalness in our kuntry of whores...

    God gives U.S. free-will in our finite existence, thus, what we mortals do with it determines our destiny. Think summore, please: you aint gonna gitcha Seventh-Heaven by your blog title.

    Wanna wiseabove to Seventh-Heaven?
    Put down your freekn fone, dear, and stare at where YOU'RE gonna be after this existence finite is kaput: up or down.

    Im going up, girly-whirly.
    Meet me Upstairs.
    Gotta lotta tok bout, toots...

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