Up My Own Ass

Well?  Do you?  If you haven’t already done so, the scary blue stalker guy with the shady, pixely face is going to hunt you down and find you, photograph you, and post it on his Facebook for all the world to see.

I have absolutely fallen off the anonymity wagon and hopped onto the post-a-message-everytime-you-take-a-shit bandwagon.  It’s absurd, but true.  Of course, the idea behind Facebook is to find old friends and reconnect with them, catching up on three decades of “old times.”  The downside of Facebook is that it enables you to be found by old friends and forced to reconnect with them, divulging three decades of personal failure and disappointments.  It’s a catch 22.

When used in its most advantageous capacity, Facebook is a perfect forum for letting all those bitches from high school know how well you are doing in life, how popular you have become, how money just falls out of the sky in front of you, and how sorry you are that they aren’t doing as well as you (unless I am the only one who does that…).  Of course, the outcome is that people crawl out from under their rocks, public toilets, and trailers to add you as their “friend.”  Never mind the fact that these same people either wouldn’t give you the time of day when they knew you in person OR they did you so dirty that they deserve a sound beating.

I submit to you the case of my old friend “D.”

“D” has an ex-boyfriend named “cockbag” who was her first love.  I never liked “cockbag” because he acted like Jesus, and was WAAAAAAY better than everyone else.  He didn’t like me because I was beneath him and, by extension, ”D” (to her credit, she never really fell for that and we always just took it with a grain of salt… we were 19 and probably didn’t realize at the time that it’s OKAY to tell someone to go fuck themselves, but nevertheless)

So, “D” had an opportunity to spend a semester in England, and knew she would be foolish to turn it down.  As soon as the plane touched down at Heathrow, “cockbag” wrote her a letter telling her that during her flight, he had fallen in love with his old flame “gonorrhea hamwallet” and, although he’s “really, really, really, like SUPER sorry, ” he has to follow his heart (and his penis, such as it was).

Flash forward to a few days ago.  I was asking “D” if she had logged on to Facebook since we had opened our accounts a few weeks back.  She said, “Oh, I haven’t even looked at it since we signed up, but I DID get some weird message saying that “cockbag” had added me as a friend?”

I was like, “SHUT. UP.”  After a brief tutorial on the workings of Facebook, she clicked the “confirm” button and waited for the game to begin.  No SOONER did she hit confirm, but she got an email from him…”Oh, my dearest, darling D!  How have you been?  It makes my heart happy to see you so happy and well!”

What an asshole.

He then went on to email his entire resume (which is really quite marginal), suggest that ”D” did not live up to her potential, and threw in a “Don’t tell Katie, but I think the cover of her book is a little blah, and she doesn’t have enough web presence, and she needs more people to review it on Amazon because it looks better that way.”

(By the way, “cockbag,” this crappy little book has drawn enormous crowds for lectures statewide, has been featured on televised segments, has secured two more book deals, AND is being sold at Costco.  So, thanks for your concern…I’ll obviously get right on that.  Now, back to the task at hand…)

Let’s not leave out the fact that now potential employers are searching Facebook for information on applicants.  Many a professional with a strong work ethic and exemplary interpersonal skills has been waylayed on their career path by such flattering photos as:

and

Sucks to be them!!!  If nothing else, these photos should make a LOVELY holiday card.

I just don’t know what people are thinking.

The moral of the story is this:  Keep your friends close, and your facebook closer.