Me zero, facebook still counting

I’m mad at Facebook.  Hmph.  Imagine an angry Winnie the Pooh with his arms crossed and you’ve got my current look.  I’ve been told I resemble the honey junkie.  I don’t see it, but I take it as a compliment.  I’d rather share similarities with him than that wuss Piglet or emo Eyore.

One upon a time Facebook used to be a good way to keep in touch with your far away friends and relatives.  Slowly, though, it’s turned into just a platform for showcasing who has the best what.  It was inevitable.  That’s what happens when people interact.  Our internal wiring is fixed to compare and compete.  It’s an ingrained human trait which social media has taken to a whole different playing field.  We now have the power to be jealous and petty electronically.  Yay to ‘one giant leap for mankind’!

What’s the worst thing about Facebook?  The Facebookers of course!  What’s the most annoying type of Facebooker?  That’s easy.

That honor goes to the lives on and through social media type.  You know, the one who takes up half your news feed?  Every movement is a status update?

I just shat!  Five minutes later.  Now flushing what I shat.  Two minutes later.  Need to wash my hands!  Two more minutes later. Done washing my hands!  One minute later.  Hmm, who thinks I might have diarrhea?  He he.  Well, I don’t know about the stuff coming out of your ass, but you are releasing a whole lotta shit via that keyboard.

Then we have the compulsive liar.  The one who leaves comments that make you think her job title must be professional ass kisser.  Wow, I’m so jealous! You look so beautiful in that picture!  No. No she doesn’t.  She looks like a bloated Effie Trinket crossed with John Travolta’s drag look from Hairspray.  Even she knows it.

The bullshitterMy career’s going great!  I’m in talks to be the first Indian James Bond!  Really?  That’s awesome.  Real step up from your last job as token brown guy in IHOP commercial.

The Selfie! queen.  Thinks she’s the next Victoria Secret angel when she looks more like the Taco Bell chihuahua with heavy makeup.

The ultra clingy wife/girlfriend.  One word.  BAE.  I don’t think there are any other three letters in the alphabet that when combined sound so. fucking. annoying.

The show off.  The lady whose sole purpose on social media is to show us how great the version of her life inside her head is.  Because outside of it everyone can see it’s a total shit fest.

The Matriarch.  Pops out one kid every year in order for more Facebook posting material.  Numbers 1, 2, and 3 were cute.  Number 8 is making me wonder what birth control failed you so I can sue the company for abetting mental torture.

To be honest, I know I’ve been guilty of most of these at some point.  Not the show off one, though.  I can’t even drink myself to that point of delusion.  Not that I drink.  Or that I fancy delusions of a perfect life.  Who wants to be perfect when you can have fun being just you?

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!  My son is incredibly bored with his first day off from school so I told him to go draw clothes on the ladies of my Victoria Secret catalog.