Get those LOLcats outta here!

The Internet testifies at a parliamentary committee:

“All right, we'll carry on,” Mr. Preston sighs, removing a sloth from his lap and passing it gently to an aide.
“Like!” someone calls out.
“Like!” someone else calls out.
“Re-sharing!” someone calls out even louder.
“Headdesk,” the Prime Minister says.
“Steak, caramelized onions and Stilton on a baguette,” a voice says calmly as three baby pandas roll across the room and out the other door.
“Sushi from Omi!” another voice chimes in.
“Honey Crisp apple and a bagel. At my desk. Sigh,” says one who presents only as a purple egg.
“Why do people keep telling me what they're having for lunch?” the chairman inquires, gazing fondly after the pandas.
“I'm sorry,” a page apologizes. “That's Twitter.”
“I am hungry,” the chairman admits. “I'd buy us both lunch, but I've just given all of my money to Mr. Kumalo, a Nigerian prince.” He taps the side of his nose knowingly.
“Cherry cupcake?” 11 million babies seated in flowerpots ask kindly from the Pinterest section.
“No, thank you,” the chairman says. “Can we please just continue with our witness and – for heaven's sake, why are three-quarters of the people here naked? All right, Mr. Toews, yes, yes, someone give that walrus a bucket, in your duties as … ?”
“First!” someone shouts out from the back, followed quickly by: “Too long; did not read. You are so brave! Hugs! Thanks for sharing your story. This sucks. Check out my blog! Manolo Blahnik shoes! Yves Saint Laurent shoes! Authentic! Free shipping! $39.99! RON PAUL 2012! RON PAUL 2012! RON PAUL 2012!”
“What?” Mr. Toews asks. “What is that person shouting about? What's he even saying? None of that has anything to do with the issue at hand.”
“Well, I'm sorry, Vic,” Tony Clement explains, with a shrug. “You invite the Internet, you're going to get a comment thread.”

T'was brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.