Fuck no!
It makes us super, super :-).
Some bozo at some newspaper–yeah, I know. Newspapers! What is it? 1995? :-P–wrote with his quill and ink that social media is a platform to promote a fake life and then make you feel shitty about said fake life when put in contrast with your real shit life and others’ fake lives.
My son accidentally peed on the floor today and then ate a piece of food off the floor. I posted this to Facebook:
In fact I felt :D.
Until I only got 12 likes and not even from the A crowd, you know, the popular gals I went to high school with who now post about how much wine they drink because kids, amirite? Oh my god, and they looovveeee their husbands so much! Happy anniversary to the most wonderful men on the planet. You make us the most sexually fulfilled women on earth!!! We love you, sweeties <3!!!
But what else are we suppose to do? It’s not like we can handle being with our own thoughts. In fact in one science experiment, people preferred to shock themselves with a 9-volt battery rather than spend any moment with their brains at full volume yelling at them about their cellulite.
So we sift through our newsfeed and feel crappy about your most fabulous vacation to consumerism hellscape Disney World and your delectable microwaved-bag-o’-crap dinner at The Olive Garden.
And in retaliation we post this:
So at least there’s that.
“Every day we live is one day closer to death.”
Can I make that my new mantra? ‘Cause right now all the inspirational crap just isn’t working for me.
(Also, if I were on fb I would like that status at least 47 times.)
Sure. I might get it put on a T-shirt.
After my breakfast cocktail, I had it tattooed on my eyelids.
Thank you for this screed about why I’d sooner low hang glide naked over an active volcano than partake in FB self-whoring. I invest my self-whore energy into my blog so I have my self-whore priorities straight.
FB self-whoring is the cheap kind. Blog self-whoring, on the other hand–that’s the top dollar quality kind.
lifw sucks then you die. #typing lrft handed.
Sorry about your wrist, dude. That must have been painful. And sorry that I called you dude.
I accidentally peed on the floor just now after reading this post.
And along with the death thing and the cocktails, at least we have you, Speaker. Amirite?? (I had no idea ‘amirite’ was a word, shows you how out of the loop I am with the social media)
Also? O. M. G. Like, I am, like, totally sharing this post on the social media internet thing.
I don’t know if “amirite” is actually a word. WordPress changes it to emirate, but I too scared to not use the lingo, imhohiosl. I don’t know what the acronym means either.
That newspaper reporter probably likes to actually see people in real life.
Freak.
That is totally weird. Can you imagine? Using your real eyes and then your mouth to talk and stuff? Creepy.
Seriously. Who would do that?
Hey that’s my house!!!! #wtf #YOLO #randomHashtagJustToGetTheAttention
#foreclosuresobstories
I wish there was a “like” button for comments.
Hahaha…
How’d you get that picture of my house?
Um…that’s my house? Because I put it on Facebook. Isn’t that like I own it?
#hashtaganythingthatstandsstill #amirite?!
#yougotthatright #wearealldoomed
Ah, surprised it’s taken me this long to get around to reading you. That shit is morbid and hilarious.
#mylifeissuperamazing
I had that “bag-o-crap” dinner last night, and you know what, I thought it was good which worries the shit out of me. Some chicken thing (not a lot of chicken) and zucchini (lots of that) over noodles and a cream sauce. Hey, I should be a waiter at the bag-o-crap restaurant. And a warning, as Michelle said, stop posting pictures of my house on Facebook. #alittleprivacyplease. Hash tag this. Loved your post.
You do realize you only order food in order to photograph it. There is no eating of anything.
I work at that bag o crap… its the pit of hell
social media sucks. It especially sucks if you’re single. There’s nothing quite as healthy for your self esteem than waiting to hear from someone who is “too busy” to text you, but not to take Buzzfeed quizzes to see which Soviet dictator he is, and which Pokeman character he would like to have anal sex with.
Well in his or her defense, those personality quizzes are pretty important. For instance today I had to find what type of bagel I was before I could feed my child. I am a cinnamon raisin. And my son got to experience what we adults call “brunch”.
I heard a kid say “HashtagWOW” yesterday. I rubbed my face on a cheese grater.
Completely appropriate response. Also appropriate to rub the cheese grater on the kid’s face.
Congrats for embracing your eventual demise.
Thank you and today I’m even closer.
Hahaha drinking cocktails – love it! And that pretend status update is one I’d love to put on my own FB. I may do it. Right now : )
Please do. I encourage it.
Oh you know I did, immediately! I credited you : )
*mind blown* you mean it’s not just my old high school friends who are drinking wine because..kids…???
They’re everywhere.
You do remember, don’t you, that I JOINED Facebook because of you…. And now this. I’m going to massage my cellulite with a 9-volt battery now.
I will never be able to make this up to you. #yolo
It’s true. And I will remind you of it repeatedly. Because I am a really good person in that way.
I avoid FB like the plague anyway, but you’ve just given me a hilarious reason for disliking it so much. THANK YOU! lol
But then how do you share all the results of those Buzzfeed personality quizzes?
Doh…I knew there was something I forgot to do….
Your posts are my only excuse for peeing on the floor. Please carry on.