A young lad named Jamie has been bagging me out all week for what he describes as my "addiction" to Twitter.
Now, this is a bit rich coming from a bloke who's currently getting his sock-clad tackle out in front of people on a regular basis. Sure, he's a cast member of The Tasmanian Babes Fiasco, and I kind of made him do that, but let's not dwell on "facts", all right?
Anyway, Jamie's a very talented - intellectually! intellectually! - young journalism student, and has been coming in to Parliament House during sittings to do intern work with me. This week, he's been on hand to watch as I achieved a monumental change in public policy, and the way politicians interact with voters.
I got Anna Bligh to use a hashtag.
"You just spend all day on Twitter," Jamie said, rolling his eyes at me. I praised him for already achieving the high level of cynicism needed by the modern working journo, but maintained Twitter has a place in our brave new digital world.
"What's your excuse for Facebook, then?"
"Just go get me a milkshake."
But Jamie had to rethink his petty - if accurate - jibes at 1:44pm on Wednesday 14 April. For it was then, while refreshing my Twitter page, that I saw the following message pop up: