Facebook, I wish I could quit you.
But I can’t, for the following reasons:
- It’s how I keep tabs on my brother, the Redneck. We don’t talk much, as he flew the proverbial coop at 18 and has made a life for himself in South Carolina. Facebook allows me to keep a big-sisterly eye on him. This is how I found out he has a girlfriend, who is now also my “friend” on Facebook even though we have never actually met. It’s also how I know that the glasses he wears are too small for his big friggin’ head; they look like Mr. Potato Head glasses. And it’s how I keep in touch with all his ex-wives. Hehe.
- I have been getting decorating ideas by creeping through the posted photos of high school classmates, former colleagues, and friends of my Hubby. Wait . . . is that creepy?
- I secretly harbor this notion that all my ex-boyfriends are pining away for me because I’m the one who got away. How will they be able to wallow in the Misery that is Life Without Me if I don’t stay on Facebook? So really, it’s a favor I do for THEM.
- I am so desperate for adult interaction that I spend way more time on Facebook than I should. And by “spend,” I mean “waste.” If my choice is do another load of laundry or find out that my 2nd grade classmate is headed to Bible Study, I choose to live vicariously through my more exciting peers. Amen.
- I am naturally
nosycurious. I believe I was put on this earth to be a fabulous mother and raise upstanding young mensnoop into other people’s business. It’s my destiny.
So which one are you?
|Um, Cupcakes . . . I should |
probably quit you, too.
- The New Mom. She is SO excited about the impending arrival of her bundle of joy. Apparently she is blissfully unaware that she is not the first woman to EVER give birth. Here’s a little tip: that sweet little infant is going to humiliate you in the Frozen Foods Section in about 3 years. I guar-an-tee it.
- The Exerciser. My girlfriend, Mama Mia, is constantly updating her status with her latest exercise accomplishment. She deserves a shout-out because she has made some amazing changes and she looks awesome, but every time I read one of her posts I can’t help but wonder where my next cupcake’s gonna come from.
- The Gourmet Chef. He/She posts the nightly menu of various epicurean adventures which include obscure spices and seasonal vegetables. To this, I cannot relate. In the BoyMommy Household, our menu consists of nuggets, tots, fish sticks, grilled cheese, and meatballs. Repeat.
- The Sports Fan. If I wanted a score update, I’d watch Sports Center. I. Don’t. Care.
- The Meteorologist. It’s always sunny and 70 where the Meteorologist lives, which means her kids get to play outside. My kids are riding their laundry baskets down the stairs and making sculptures out of masking tape, because it’s raining for the 17th f*cking day in a row!
- The Politician. This poster has it ALL figured out, and you, dear reader, are an idiot if you don’t feel the same way. I’ve mentioned before that Hubby and I are a Bipartisan Family, but we respect each other’s views. (Well, ONE of us is a little more respectful and does not yell at the television . . . ) This is America, folks. We’re all entitled to our opinion.
- Little Miss Sunshine!!! She LOVES everyone! And she’s always happy! And she’s so blessed! And she uses a lot of exclamation points!!!! Because one exclamation point wouldn’t do justice to the level of excitement she feels!!! About EVERYthing!!!!
- The Abbreviator. I need 2 unfriend this poster b/c he doesn’t follow the rules of language. LOL. Dude, u r 40. U look like a moron. WTF?
- The Toker. His posts are so cryptic and incoherent, I’m gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he smoked a doobie before he sat down at his computer. Or perhaps I should smoke one so his post will make sense.
- The Slacker. She’s watching movies. Now she’s taking a nap. Now she’s meeting her BFF for drinks. Now she’s going to bed. Now she’s watching movies. I want this life.
I only post when I have something funny to say. The problem is that I always think I’m funny. Hubby tells me this is not the case. This is why his Valentine card, which made reference to processed cheese, (as all good Valentines cards should,) was funny to me but not to him.