Oh, how I long for the day when Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest go the way of Myspace and Napster. Yes, my testicles seem to contain a substance that makes me more susceptible to anger than, say, the substance in ovaries.
For example, I was greeted on Facebook this morning with a post containing a picture of a lovely, buxom young woman with the caption, “She said yes.” Whereas most women undoubtedly saw the post, sighed, and smiled, all I could do is type sarcastic comments, and delete them before pressing enter. I had my usual seven hours of sleep, and I was in a pleasant mood.
Sample comments from ole grumpy me:
- Was the question, “Would you bounce if you fell on your tits?”
- Was the question, “How would you like a shiny new ring, and someone to nag for the next seven years or so?”
- How drunk was she?
- How drunk were you?
- Wow, guess I should stop sleeping with her.
- Were you holding a gun or jewelry?
- Ha ha ha, yeah, sure she did. I can find pictures of a pretty woman, and post them too. Here: Sandra Bullock just said yes.
- That’s funny, the guy she posted on her page isn’t you.
Scrolling down a bit, I find pictures of cute kids. Cuteness is subjective. Maybe I don’t find a toddler standing on the table in a restaurant to be cute. Maybe I find that gross. Maybe it’s because I have no offspring, and, if I did, I’d have enough sense to hire a babysitter, instead of having my child walk pee pee shoes over a public eating surface.
Next, I find pictures of people on vacation. Lovely, but why must your legs, toes, and beer be in the photo? I believe you–you’re on vacation, and you can have alcohol during the day because you’re not working today. Yippie! Don’t need evidence. Don’t care that much, actually. How nice–you shaved/tanned your legs. Still unimpressive. Next time, stand up, walk where there are few (or topless) people, keep your back to the sun, point and tap, post, then tag yourself.
Now, my favorite posts: the political and religious ones. Nobody but you cares who you like or dislike and why. That’s because nobody will be convinced to like or dislike something just because you like or dislike it. Bash Obama, bash the Tea Party, bash the Cowboys, and nobody cares. Praise Jesus, Buddha, your yoga instructor, or your mom, and nobody cares. Guess what? I hate warm wine, and I love fried pepperoni. See that? You don’t care.
I don’t fucking know. What should we be posting? Recipes, maybe? I’m always open to humor. Post a joke, or a silly dog picture, and I’ll chuckle. Nice job. You’ve brightened my day. I’ll take a quote–even Dr. Seuss. That works. Selling something? Sure. What you got? Maybe you’re looking to hire someone, or get hired. OK. Might know someone. Hey, I’m always up for a nice boob. Post a boob. There ya go. Thumbs fucking up.