SUCH has been the excitement of this general election's seven-party tie that there's been barely any time for nonsense.

I say "time for", the spin doctors likely say "risk of".

Where have been the truly clanging misspeaks (remember Gordon Brown and that "bigoted woman"?); where have been the fisticuffs (say, Prescott punching a chap who turned out to egg him); what about the unscripted haranguing (Sharron Storer giving Blair a right what-for outside the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Edgebaston); and where have been the embarrassing faux pas (supporters failing to recognise Nick Clegg on the 2010 campaign trail)?

It's been quiet alright. But not on Twitter.

Scottish politics on Twitter has been some weird parallel high jinks universe where politicians are three-tenths Iggy Azalea, two-tenths Blue Peter auditionee and five-tenths your pal.

Here's Ruth Davidson on Twitter last night, talking about Buzzfeed's political editor Jamie Ross: "@JamieRoss7 is now in the back of my car, being forcefed Haribo Tangfastics. *cackles wildly while checking tarpaulin and shovel*"

Huh? Maybe she's referring to earlier this week when she requested the amiable Mr Ross help her recreate that famous photograph of Alex Salmond feeding a Solero to a lady on the banks of a river, which she, of course, tweeted.

Ruth is a comic hero on Twitter. Recently I posted a picture of her, pre-televised debate, caught adjusting the tie of Jim Murphy. Ruth is captured glancing cautiously over her shoulder while Jim looks, well, Jim has his inimitable Jim look about him. They appear as a couple caught en flagrante somewhere naughty. I posted it with "Caption competition" underneath and who should reply but Ruth herself.

"It's been a while, but I think I can still remember..." Before I could quite finish a fnaar, she followed up with "How to tie a tie. Obviously." She's almost enough to convince you it might be alright to vote Tory.

While Ruth seems like a woman on a mission to amuse, Nicola Sturgeon appears rather more savvy about the whole affair. As in real life, where she eschews the rule that town hall politics is over, Nicola gets involved. She tells off journalists who criticise her, she gets in about discussions between voters, she'll take a selfie with your gran and remember to tag you in it. After the George Square bin lorry crash she sent me a private message telling me to take care, having read of my involvement in the disaster. How she has the time I do not know, but it's impressive.

The Scottish approach appears to be to talk with people, rather than at them. Take a look at Cameron or Miliband's Twitter feeds (here's another thing: why do we comfortably call Scottish politicians by their first names and English by their surnames?) and you'll see no such relaxed repartee.

Twitter must be a tightrope across a pool of snapping Komodo dragons for politicians: get it right and reach the banks of goodwill, get it wrong and tumble to the flesh tear before unemployment, as happened to Emily Thornberry, sacked from the Labour shadow cabinet for a seemingly sneering tweet about a home in Rochester.

From Kezia Dugdale's dad giving her a rather public telling off to Jim Murphy trying and failing to engage David Cameron or Nicola tweeting pictures of peoples' aunties, political Twitter north of the border has been a steady slew of high jinks and jaw-droppers.

I'm not sure how many faux pas have to be made before the truth sinks in: what you write on social media is visible for other people to read. Politicians, no matter how you feel, are people. People who are on social media. And so it reaches a logical conclusion that what you write on social media might be read by a politician.

Still though, the notion that politicians are only people can be a tough one to digest and seeing your own throwaway 140 characters responded to by the chap you saw just last night on TV debating the future of the nation is an odd one to swallow.

Maybe our politicians have more personality than their English counterparts. Maybe it speaks to how politics in Scotland is local and more personal. Maybe it's all just a cynical ploy for the youth vote. I'm not sure I care as long as it continues.

But I should probably tweet Jamie Ross and check he's alright.