Facebook Sucks!

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Twitter Rules . . . Facebook drools!

Once upon a time, many years ago, I had a Facebook presence.  When I opened the account, I didn’t plan on becoming a cyber stalker, but that’s what happened.  There must have been an undetectable mind-controlling force emitted from my computer screen as soon as I logged on to the site.  Mark Zuckerberg seemed like an evil genius in “The Social Network,” so I have no doubt he figured out how to control my thoughts.

Nearly overnight, I was consumed with curiosity about the intimate details of people I barely knew.  What did Suzy eat for breakfast?  Did Joanie run today, or was she a slug, like usual?  Are Brad and Jenna still fighting?  Did Lisa finish vacuuming the hallway?  In just a couple of clicks, I could find out all this and more.

I would wake up every morning, head directly for the computer, and spy.  Then I would spend the rest of the day bitching about what people had posted.

“Suzy needs a life.”

“Joanie’s ass will always be huge.”

“Brad’s a douchebag and Jenna’s a pathetic enabler.”

“Lisa’s a slob.”

Another thing I loathed about Facebook is that it was basically virtual high school.  I wasn’t popular back then, so why would I choose to be unpopular now?  The images that people created on line never matched up to reality.  Nobody is as happy, busy, content, social, and outgoing as they appear on the screen.  I know total creeps with thousands of Facebook friends.  Yet, these jerks sit alone all weekend with the shades drawn because real people can’t stand them.

At some point, I realized that my stalking had become an addiction, and I knew I had to stop.  I went cold turkey, deleted my account, and vowed never to return.  And, for years, I kept my word . . . until today.

An acquaintance of mine convinced me of the value of Facebook as a networking tool.  I was reluctant, but I thought maybe things would be different this time so I jumped back in.  All morning, I asked people I knew through Twitter to befriend me on Facebook.  After several hours of making requests, Facebook warned me that I was doing things too quickly.  Then their harassment escalated as they asked me to re-type one fuzzy captcha after another.  At one point, I had to provide my cell phone number so that they could text me a code that would allow me to continue.  I did everything in my power to prove to them that I was a human-based life form with good intentions.  Life on Facebook was quickly becoming an exercise in frustration and hoop jumping.

Then, out of nowhere, WHACK!  I got served!  Mark Zuckerberg and his minions sentenced me to thirty days in the Facebook brink.  No trial, no solid warnings, and no appeal process.  They just took me out and shot me.

I tried Googling my way out of this mess, but to no avail.  The sad reality is there is no escaping their punishment.  Facebook has a comment section on their “Help” page, but they clearly state that they don’t respond to user’s input.  In desperation, I called some Facebook support number.  A very nice lady in India basically told me, “Tough luck, American sweetheart.  You’re Facebook days are over.  Or at least for the next the next thirty days.”  Then she cautioned me that when I was allowed to resume activity, I better watch myself, because Mark and his posse certainly will.  Any missteps and I’ll be propelled straight back into the cyber pen.

To all you great people that accepted me as your friend today, I thank you.  I really would have liked to connect and gotten to know you better, and I’m sorry I wasted your time.  However, I am deleting my account and NEVER going back.

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What a douche!

My message to Mark Zuckerberg?  No wonder your stock is tanking!  You’re a douchebag and your company sucks.  How can you not offer customer support?  It’s no wonder you couldn’t get a date in college.  If you hadn’t bought your wife outright, my bets are you probably couldn’t get one now.  I personally wouldn’t touch you with a virtual ten-foot pole, not that I’d ever be allowed to get that close.

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