Many of the finer things in life begin with a T - Talisker, for example.

Trans Am, one of my favourite bands. Tiramisu. On the other hand, the letter kicks off two of the most pernicious elements of modern life, or mine at least: tobacco and Twitter. As of today, however, I am putting an end to both.

My first column in these pages detailed my success in quitting smoking after two decades of dependency on hand-rolled tabs. I'd removed my 70th and final nicotine patch at the end of a rigorous withdrawal programme and was understandably buoyant about changing my lifestyle, a modification advised by my GP and embraced with gusto.

My newfound liberty was not to last, however. The Christmas before last I found unexpectedly difficult to cope with, and I bent like a willow. A pouch of baccy was bought. And smoked. I didn't buy any more for a while but would cadge off friends, "treating" myself now and then. The cigarettes tasted foul but boy were they a comfort.

One thing led inexorably to another and after a few months I was back to normal, looping just about every daily deed round the hook of nicotine, back in the sweaty, phlegm-flecked grip of addiction.

Months passed. After much effort on my part, the wheezing returned. My sense of smell vanished. But a nagging thought wouldn't go away. "Stop this, dude," counselled Numbskull No1, at first in a whisper, then louder and louder until very recently, when I could hear him bellowing above the deafening volume of my chronic morning cough.

So today I start again on the patches. Because life is short, and frequently extraordinary. I want to feel its every pulse with no obstacles to the experience.

Tweets are short too, but rarely extraordinary in any respect other than their glibness and inanity, so as of this morning I am abandoning Twitter as well as smoking. "You're following the wrong accounts," I've been told. No I'm not. I'm following the right ones, but I can't hear them. The internet, so my web buddha Colin tells me, is "a moving wall of s***". And I've grown tired of spraying my opinions on it via Twitter.

I'm starting my own website instead. Guthrotull.com, in case you're wondering. So I can still spout and froth about whatever takes my fancy without the pressure to summarise my thoughts in 140 characters before hoying it into the ever-churning washback of thought-poop that is Twitter.

Another word that begins with a T? Ta-ra. To tabs and tweets.