How the hell does that website do it? How is it possible, that people I once thought had above average intelligence and common sense, are reduced to slobbering idiots?
Seriously folks, it's about time you think before you post. How the hell do you not know the one thing your home town is famous for? How do you not know that there is no pumpkin in a Starbucks pumpkin latte? How do you not know if you have your settings on public, that everyone on the planet can see you're an idiot?
How do you not realize that your shirt was see thru before you went out? How do you not know that your significant other is interested in the person whose page they comment on sixteen times a day? How do you not know you're a fucking idiot, when you complain about how hard life is, but three hours later you're sitting by a fucking pool, drink in hand and bragging about how you have nothing to do for a week? Do you realize most people who complain one tenth the amount of time you do, don't get vacations and further more, you don't work, you cook once a week and spend more time posting about it than it takes to make and you complain about laundry. Laundry! You put it in and push a fucking button. Then you feed your fat face with bon bons while you wait to hear the buzzer, but you miss it, because you have your computer on Pandora, the TV onto The View and your phone surgically attached to your hand. Then you complain your husband or ex-husband is a deadbeat.
Sorry, this sounds sexist. There are just as many men who sit on their asses waiting for Junior to get off the bus and somehow manage to post 500 times on Facebook how lazy black or Spanish people are. Yes those lazy fuckers got fired and unlike you, they didn't get a severance package, because it's not offered. Their Cobra is nonexistent and they can't collect unemployment, because their old boss is screwing them. Yes, so criticize how they collect food stamps to feed their five kids, while you search Expedia for deals on your disgusting Sea World extravaganza.
Remember that scene in Good Will Hunting? You know the one, the best one in the movie. No of course you don't fucking know it, Mr. Facebooker, because you're programmed to say "them apples" and "about a girl" and all the other awful fucking scenes in that pretentious, sentimental horseshit of a movie, but maybe just maybe you at least remember it. It's when Chuckie is talking to Will and he utters this masterpiece...."Every day I come by your house and I pick you up. And we go out. We have a few drinks, and a few laughs, and it's great. But you know what the best part of my day is? For about ten seconds, from when I pull up to the curb and when I get to your door, 'cause I think, maybe I'll get up there and I'll knock on the door and you won't be there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. You just left. I don't know much, but I know that." That is me with Facebook. Just once. Just fucking once!!! Just once, I would like to sign on and not see four pictures of dogs beaten or cars shivering. Just once, I'd like to not see fourteen memes of Jesus posted by people who fuck their best friend's husbands. Just once, I'd like to not see some grifter trying to scam money out of people. Just once, I'd like to hear that the fuckers who complain about their jobs 24/7 finally upped and quit, because their mental health is more important than making "the man" happy. Just once, I'd like someone to publicly say what others say privately, good or bad. Just once, I'd like someone to not hit like and say "Hey so and so, I like you as a friend, but you know what? We all know you're rich and you know what else? You didn't work for that shit, so quit rubbing it in the faces of those of us who have slaved away trying to make ends meet. Stop telling us about your vacations, your cars, your jewelry and tell us about the conversation you had with your kid about life and how they want to be a scientist, because they cry when they read the paper at all the disease in the world. Then and only then will I spend a second of my life giving you the satisfaction of a like or a comment."
Just once, I'd like to wake up and find the angry worker had their comments read by the friend who needs someone in that field at their job and can offer her solace. Just once, I'd like to read that the person who spend six months a year in the ER, realized that mental health might have been a bigger issue than physical. Just once I'd like the two people who are always sad they are alone, to post "in a relationship with..." Just once, I'd like to wake up and go on and have someone say, "Thanks and it not really be about what they did."
Seriously folks, it's about time you think before you post. How the hell do you not know the one thing your home town is famous for? How do you not know that there is no pumpkin in a Starbucks pumpkin latte? How do you not know if you have your settings on public, that everyone on the planet can see you're an idiot?
How do you not realize that your shirt was see thru before you went out? How do you not know that your significant other is interested in the person whose page they comment on sixteen times a day? How do you not know you're a fucking idiot, when you complain about how hard life is, but three hours later you're sitting by a fucking pool, drink in hand and bragging about how you have nothing to do for a week? Do you realize most people who complain one tenth the amount of time you do, don't get vacations and further more, you don't work, you cook once a week and spend more time posting about it than it takes to make and you complain about laundry. Laundry! You put it in and push a fucking button. Then you feed your fat face with bon bons while you wait to hear the buzzer, but you miss it, because you have your computer on Pandora, the TV onto The View and your phone surgically attached to your hand. Then you complain your husband or ex-husband is a deadbeat.
Sorry, this sounds sexist. There are just as many men who sit on their asses waiting for Junior to get off the bus and somehow manage to post 500 times on Facebook how lazy black or Spanish people are. Yes those lazy fuckers got fired and unlike you, they didn't get a severance package, because it's not offered. Their Cobra is nonexistent and they can't collect unemployment, because their old boss is screwing them. Yes, so criticize how they collect food stamps to feed their five kids, while you search Expedia for deals on your disgusting Sea World extravaganza.
Remember that scene in Good Will Hunting? You know the one, the best one in the movie. No of course you don't fucking know it, Mr. Facebooker, because you're programmed to say "them apples" and "about a girl" and all the other awful fucking scenes in that pretentious, sentimental horseshit of a movie, but maybe just maybe you at least remember it. It's when Chuckie is talking to Will and he utters this masterpiece...."Every day I come by your house and I pick you up. And we go out. We have a few drinks, and a few laughs, and it's great. But you know what the best part of my day is? For about ten seconds, from when I pull up to the curb and when I get to your door, 'cause I think, maybe I'll get up there and I'll knock on the door and you won't be there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. You just left. I don't know much, but I know that." That is me with Facebook. Just once. Just fucking once!!! Just once, I would like to sign on and not see four pictures of dogs beaten or cars shivering. Just once, I'd like to not see fourteen memes of Jesus posted by people who fuck their best friend's husbands. Just once, I'd like to not see some grifter trying to scam money out of people. Just once, I'd like to hear that the fuckers who complain about their jobs 24/7 finally upped and quit, because their mental health is more important than making "the man" happy. Just once, I'd like someone to publicly say what others say privately, good or bad. Just once, I'd like someone to not hit like and say "Hey so and so, I like you as a friend, but you know what? We all know you're rich and you know what else? You didn't work for that shit, so quit rubbing it in the faces of those of us who have slaved away trying to make ends meet. Stop telling us about your vacations, your cars, your jewelry and tell us about the conversation you had with your kid about life and how they want to be a scientist, because they cry when they read the paper at all the disease in the world. Then and only then will I spend a second of my life giving you the satisfaction of a like or a comment."
Just once, I'd like to wake up and find the angry worker had their comments read by the friend who needs someone in that field at their job and can offer her solace. Just once, I'd like to read that the person who spend six months a year in the ER, realized that mental health might have been a bigger issue than physical. Just once I'd like the two people who are always sad they are alone, to post "in a relationship with..." Just once, I'd like to wake up and go on and have someone say, "Thanks and it not really be about what they did."
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