Lets talk about social media for a few, m'kay? Myspace was great for it's time. You could find people -- read: stalk your ex. Decorate your page and discover new music. But it was lacking, and at the time we didn't even know it. In order to keep up with what your friends were doing, you had to actually go to their page.
Enter Twitter. Via 140 characters you could update your followers instantly. And every single tweet reached your time line. We were now in the know.
And then Facebook took over the world. It was a little slow to start but today, it is THE powerhouse of social media. And for good reason. Mr. Mark Z. is a genius because he realized we are nosy but lazy humans with short attention spans. He was able to meet our needs.
There are a couple of things I would like to bring to everyone's attention though.
My religious friends.
I'm so glad you found Jesus. Really I am. Sorry it took you so long. Maybe it's because your a late bloomer that you just can't shut up about it. Even when you limit your “Jesus is Lord” postings to every other day, it means I get roughly 180 of these things every year. It sounds a lot like your telling me that I'm less of a good little human.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a very spiritual. I don't subscribe to organized religion. But let's face it; I should be dead. No one will convince me there's no Higher Power lookin' out for me. Do I think he gave you the love of your life? No. He did, however, give you freewill. Please use some of it to limit your postings. Because it sounds like you drank the Kool-aid.
My political friends.
We get it. You're passionate about politics. Maybe you should get a job with the local paper to write op-eds. Facebook, however, is not the place.
I don't tell you how gullible you are for believing the Dems are gonna take away your right to hunt and defend your home. So stop telling me how stupid I am for believing in change.
If we could all limit our postings to verified fact, the world would be a much nicer place. You're feeding the fear and hate machines when you “share” propaganda.
My chronic junk friends.
All you have to share are pre-made “e-card funnies”, inspirational poems that you didn't write, chain-mail quotes, memes and so on. I'm beginning to think you don't have a life or an original thought in your head.
I friended you because I was genuinely interested in your life. Share the pictures of your kids and/or your pets. Tell me how much fun you had on your girls night out. And I'll sympathize when you're having a bad day. I promise.
And I don't even know how to address this:
Ya know what fucks with me...people greetin me at a bar that i was so drunk i met
.they rember me..i have no clue who they are..gotta act like i know ...not thier fault...mine..but gotta entertain it...lol
What is that? Drunk posting? Okay, I get that this happens on occasion. We all do dumb stuff. But when you get up the next day and see this shit, just delete it. You look like a moron. Unless...are you actually a moron? Cuz if that's the case, message me so I can “un-friend” you!
And now, for the things I would post if I knew my Mother wouldn't smack me.
Feel free to steal these and use as you see fit.
On a final note... how come I never see any of these?
I think I left a blow job at your house. Mind if I come by and get it?
I'm considering today a major accomplishment, since I didn't duck tape any kids to the wall.
Now would be the perfect time to find out where you stand on the abortion issue.
I wish I had a job where I could punch stupid motherfucker in the face all day.
I hope your mid-term is as easy as you are.
Having a vagina doesn't stop me from thinking my balls are bigger than yours.
I think we should see other people until I am absolutely sure I can't do any better than you.
That new outfit would go great with a new personality. Didn't you get one of those too?
Dad, the time we spent together when I was a kid is making my therapist rich.
I'd tell you to go fuck yourself, but you'd probably delegate that to me, too.
Sadly, I switched to Herbal Essence and discovered I don't have a g-spot anywhere on my head.
Relationships are like yard sales: They look good from a distance, but up close it's just a bunch of shit you don't need.
Girls, there is a fine line between wearing make-up and looking like you got gang banged by Crayola.
What do women and tornadoes have in common? They both scream when the come and take your house when they leave.
I got you some toothpaste for your birthday, cuz your breath always smells like weed and hooker snatch.
Sorry to point this out, but you're too fat to wear that.
Did it hurt when you fell out of the whore tree and banged every guy on the way down?
I'm diagnosing you with a case of being a whiny bitch, and prescribing you a dose of man the fuck up.
It's not premarital sex if you never get married.
Instead of Facebook asking “What's on your mind?” it should say, “What's your fucking problem now?”