Gahh. Why did I make a Facebook? I made a Facebook 2 years ago, in the hope that it would give me something interesting to do in my spare time. I mean, all my friends had it, everyone had it. They were talking about it like archaeologists discussing an artifact from Indiana Jones. “Did you see it on Facebook? Did you see IT? Derpina told Derp that he…” “OMG YES! I hate Derpina…come online at 6pm today!”
It all sounded very cool to me. I’m a sucker for gossip. I love it. If I hear one tiny rumor, I’m all over everyone’s face, asking for more info on the topic. This Facebook thing sounded very me. So I hopped on home, and quickly made an account. It took me forever to tweak my account, and I immediately added all my friends. I even had an ‘excuse mii but huu iz diss? =))’ message from some random girl. Brushing the temptations to reply with a ‘Your mother, you stupid broken typewriter, learn English’, I left the message for later, and leaned back, taking every particle of Facebook in.
It was quite disappointing. It was just some dark blue line at the top of the page, and a couple of posts from people claiming ‘it’s complicated’, and posting quotations like ‘love is tough, and you never notice it until you are truly heartbroken’.
A good two years later, I’m growing even more annoyed with Facebook. It used to be ok-ish. You know, with the fortune teller Mystic Meg and the strangely disturbing quizzes (apparently I’ll die in a plane fire). Even Farmville was fun till I reached a level that was hard to progress from.
I slowed to checking my Facebook once or twice a week. There’s something that bugs me. Every time I go on it, someone has to friggin’ poke me. These two girls won’t stop! It’s bad enough that one’s my best friend and pokes me everyday in real life anyway.
So I poke them back to get rid of the notification. And another one comes five minutes later. Don’t they have something better to do? Like play with their dolls or do…stuff? I bet they sit in front of their computers all day, staring at the screen, stalking my profile and waiting for me to poke them back, then immediately prodding me again with their wicked sharp internet fingernails.
I wish Facebook would invent a ‘hit over the head with a sledge-hammer’ button. It’d be of more use.
In other news, I now have a Mustang cursor, I am truly obsessed with these beautiful cars (the classic ones).