Celebrity Tweets (The Most Awful Title I've Ever Written)

To all who may read this,

Certain aspects of a certain Blogger have recently come to my attention, and I feel it is my duty to inform you about them.  The Blogger in question is  Mr Bumferry Hogart of Thoughtless Gibberish fame.

Now, let’s be clear on this matter before we start; I am not of the homosexual persuasion.  I have spent countless hours contemplating the majesty of boobies to the point that my long term cognitive reasoning has been irreparably affected.  I have been in a stable, heterosexual relationship for the last 9 years of my life, and I’m proud of it.  However, a guy like Bumferry can turn a chap’s head.

What a hunk!

Bumferry is, in the rawest sense, a complete and utter sex beast.  I've tried to keep my secret for Bumferry, well, secret of course.  However, I feel like I am going to explode in a shower of bromance if I don't declare my deepest love and attraction to this delicious chunk of man.

Bumferry’s nipples are delectable.  They proudly protrude into my daily thoughts, giving me a sudden urge to purchase gallon after gallon of olive oil.  Jacuzzi share prices sky rocket whenever me and Bumferry are in the same time zone as each other.

I have a fantasy where I’m in the middle of deepest, darkest Peru.  I’ve fallen into a pit of quick sand and I’m slowly sinking.  As the tireless pull of the shifting sand drags me to the point where my head is submerged, I suddenly find a lasso has somehow secured itself around my waist.  At that final moment, I am pulled to safety by none other than Bumferry.  He is shirtless, wearing a pair of light denim jeans and an explorer’s hat.  As he hoists me to safety, he scoops me up by putting his left arm behind my knees, lifting me up and holding me tightly.  He feels warm and comforting, like a security blanket made of pure man.  He carries my off into the sunset as “Love lifts us up where we belong” plays in the background.

For those who are feeling bemused, creeped out, or a little bit turned on, there is a reason why I’m confessing of my love for Bumferry.  Basically, I lost a bet and this is the loser’s forfeit.

Last Friday we set ourselves a challenge on Twitter.  We had to try our hardest to get celebrities and companies (any type of famous Twitter account) to either Retweet, Favourite or Reply to our Tweets.  Whoever had the most by the end of the week would be declared the winner.  The loser had to write a post about their attraction to the winner.

I managed to get a measly score of 4 during the challenge.  I really tried, but it seems that most celebrities are either too ignorant or too humorless to respond.  I refuse to believe that it's because I'm an inconsequential nobody.  I used every tactic I could possibly think of, from flattery:

To humour:

To customer service accounts for corporations:

To the downright bizarre:

For those that don't know, Derek Acorah is a medium.   A shit one at that.

It seemed that nothing would work.  Then I started telling outrageous lies, which seemed to achieve a modest degree of success:

A birthday tweet from Hulk Hogan when it's not even my birthday?  How on Earth could I possibly top that?

Yes, a Retweet from Danny John-Jules.  The guy who plays The Cat on Red Dwarf!  Hey, it matters to me dammit!

So yes, I failed the challenge and Bumferry is the God of all sex.  This evidence will be submitted in my trial for harassing celebrities over Twitter.  

EDIT:  Just one more thing.  If you fancy following either myself or Bumferry on Twitter, now you can.  You will laugh, you will cry, and you will probably regret doing so.