I, therefore, humbly beg the following questions and offer these unsolicited opinions on the phenomenon known as FaceBook… and it’s apparently neurotic users.
-No one really gives a damn about your fish, farm, stinky cross-eyes weasels, Guido Jersey Shore mafia, panting chinchillas in heat or other games you play on that website. It’s like masturbating--such activities are intended for yourself and no one else. Some things you just don’t need to share… like a fart for example.
-What’s with the cryptic messages such as, “I knew this would happen,” or “He had it coming.” This is an ADD generation - we do not have the time to read between your lines… and some of you should have your posts tied to an automatic 9-1-1 emergency line because your whiny, riddle-prone messages appear to be suicidal and we’d all hate to be deprived of them… hourly… every day of the week.
-What makes you think we want to see your pasty, overweight self - shirtless and sweaty - chugging cheap beer on the beach in a swimsuit five sizes smaller than the law should allow? I have a weak stomach and can do without that.
-What’s with all the prostitution on FaceBook? Ya know, the borderline porny photos of crotch bulges or camel toes, complete with pubes peaking over the waistband of their shorts? Also, why do the users who fit this description invariably identify themselves as being a “Christian?”
-Having a FaceBook account does not give you license to write bad poetry.
-Don’t you think 73 photos of your cat are enough? Perhaps you should spend more time feeding and petting it than trailing it around the house like an overzealous tabloid photographer.
-And as if 14 folders of pet photos aren’t enough, why would anyone care what kind of vehicle you drive? Or for that matter, why are you posing for photos with it like it’s a member of your immediate family or your sweetheart? Unless it talks to you like the car in Knight Rider or cooks for you, I’m not impressed. And chances are there are living, breathing things and people out there somewhere who might actually reciprocate your affection if ya try!
-Yes, we’re happy for you if you get a tattoo, piercing or some other form of body trinket or embellishment. It does not, however, mean we should throw a ticker tape parade down Main Street in your honor. Please calm down already.
-Do you think having a juvenile pissing contest with your ex on FaceBook for the whole world to see somehow endears you to anyone? You’re only one step above those filthy, dysfunctional vortexes of STDs we all laugh at on Jerry Springer.
-What’s with the one-word, dead-end mystery messages such as “Yeah!” or “Awesome!” Is there a subliminal message coded in there somewhere? Is it written in invisible ink, and if so will those old magic decoder rings found at the bottom of cereal boxes reveal the full message to us?
-I feel like my bond with you becomes so much deeper and fulfilling every time you announce to me and others that you have mowed your lawn, brushed your hair, emptied the dishwasher, changed your infant’s diaper, gotten rid of your diarrhea or arrived home from church.
-Why is there a FaceBook “group” for everything from booger-eating to naked Crisco Twister?
P.S. Why do “friends” on FaceBook send you an instant message just to notify you that they’re “bored?” I’m tempted to reply as follows: “I’m sorry to hear that you have been diagnosed with this condition. Where can I send flowers? I have added you to my prayer list and fervently hope you have a speedy recovery!” Seriously, why would I give a damn that you’re bored? And what I am supposed to do about it? I’m not an entertainment venue, Chuck E. Cheese or a water park.
About the author: Joseph O. Patton is the editor-in-chief and founder of the Capital City Free Press.
Copyright © Capital City Free Press
Copyright © Capital City Free Press