I don’t like Facebook, but I’ve never bothered to ask myself why I felt this way until recently—when I kidnapped tricked drugged and dragged hired a foreign exchange student to maintain my account. It sounds pretentious, but I’m just way too busy pretending to be busy to log into my site, so it makes sense to have someone else do it for me.

Wait until he finds out that instead of travel visas, he’s getting paid in “Trident Layers”!

After putting some thought into it though, I realized that what I detested wasn’t actually Facebook, but Facebook Whorism.

First, a bit of terminology: Facebook Whores are attention whores with Facebook pages; Facebook Whorism occurs when a Facebook Whore uses his site to get attention by posting every damn detail of his life: what he’s reading, what he’s wearing, what he sees when he looks out his window, what he thinks he should be seeing when he looks out his window—anything and everything a person could possibly post is all right there on a Facebook Whore’s page…and in real-time too, because he has that Facebook app on his phone.

Facebook Whorism is the real reason why I don’t use Facebook. Signing in and then being faced with a never-ending list of stupid status updates no one gives a sh*t about—it definitely tests the limits of your sanity…just ask my foreign exchange student.

It’s not even like I have a lot of attention whores as friends. Of the 70 or so people on my list, only 3 of them qualify as Facebook Whores. Just 3—which is what, like, 4% of the group? And yet, my “News Feed” is mostly stuff about them because the rest of my friends don’t post stupid sh*t.

Having been force-fed a lot of Facebook Whorism, I’ve noticed that although my “News Feed” page looks like a giant cluster f*ck of other people’s diarrhea, there are actually categories of diarrhea within the diarrhea. What I mean is: the pointless status updates that make up Facebook Whorism can be broken down into types—which I like to call “Sh*tnanegans.”

I know I just used a bunch of random terms in my post, so here’s a diagram that will hopefully make things less confusing:

OMG…this is the worst diagram ever.

You can tell a status update is a Sh*tnanegan when it leaves you wondering, “Why are you showing me this sh*t?!” (You’ve seen more than your fair share of them, I’m sure.) And while there are a number of Sh*tnanegans Facebook Whores use, there are some that I find more annoying than others:

        1. You’ve Posted a Picture of What You’re Eating But…

You’re only eating cereal! Hello! No one f*cking cares!

Now, if you’re eating or drinking something so out-there that most people don’t even know it exists, and will probably die without ever having the opportunity to consume it—e.g., monkey’s-brain milkshake or real ants-on-a-log, and not some celery stick covered in peanut butter and raisins—then that’s definitely worth posting a few photos of.

But if you’re posting pictures of a bowl of “Froot Loops,” a cup of coffee, a stick of gum—if it’s something so ordinary that any of us could get our hands on it at any time, then don’t expect a reaction other than, “Why the hell are you showing me this sh*t?”

No, really, I’m seriously asking you: Why the hell you are showing me a bowl of cereal? Because unless you and your friends come from a place where cereal costs an arm, a leg, and half of an albino child, no one is going to care that you’re eating “Froot Loops.” And the same goes for that bag of “M&Ms” you snacked on yesterday, the apple and can of soda you posted a picture of, along with the caption, “My sad lunch…”, and the package of taco seasoning you bought for the tacos you were planning to make for dinner. The only thing those pictures are getting people to notice about you is that you’re an even bigger Facebook Whore than they originally thought you were.

        2. You’re Posting Up-To-The-Second Updates About Your Trip But…

You’re only going to the grocery store! No one f*cking cares!

This Sh*tnanegan isn’t limited to trips to the grocery store. It also covers trips to the post office, school, the mall—it pretty much applies when all you’re doing is leaving your house to run errands or hang out somewhere, but you’re posting status updates about it as if you’re on some kind of fantasy vacation.

This doesn’t mean you’re committing a Sh*tnanegan just by announcing to everyone that you’re going somewhere. It’s only when the status updates go beyond the initial “Going out to blah blah blah” that you start to enter Facebook Whorism territory. I’m talking about stuff like this:

And you’re sharing this with everyone because…? I mean, the only explanation I can think of is that you subconsciously want someone to rob your ass blind, and that’s why you’re telling everyone when you’ll be out of your house, and for how long.

        3. You’ve Posted Updates About One of Your Achievements But…

You’ve been bragging about the same thing for 6 months now! No one f*cking cares anymore!

I’m all for giving credit where credit is due, and I think a person who has accomplished something is allowed to toot her own horn without looking like she’s full of herself. But judgment-free tooting doesn’t last forever, and if you continue to talk about your success after it’s become stale news, you’ll find yourself knee-deep in Sh*tnanegan-ville.

This is how you go from announcing a personal achievement to announcing you’re a desperate Facebook Whore. Say you’ve just landed a new job (which happens to be the 7th job you’ve had in the past 15 months…and everyone knows it’s because your 6 previous employers fired your ass for being such an abrasive b*tch):

By the time you finally stop talking about your “new” job, everyone else has already stopped caring about it…and you.

        4. You Post Super-Emo Status Updates Whenever Someone Dumps You But…

…I already wrote about this back in 2008.

I know there is an option where you can hide updates from certain people, but I would have to log into my site to activate it—which doesn’t make any sense to me. You have expose yourself to the mindless news feeds before you can block them! As in, you actually have to face all of the crap your Facebook Whore-friend forced onto your “News Feed”—like how she’s so tired at 1:32 in the afternoon, or how she needs everyone’s opinions on whether she should wear a black T-shirt or a red one. By the way: How the hell can a person be that indecisive? It’s not humanely possible! But I guess Facebook Whores are willing to act like useless bags of sh*t if it gets someone—anyone—to pay attention to them.

You know what? I’ll just stick to my current routine of only checking Facebook when someone complains about how I haven’t responded to the friend request he sent me months ago. It’s safer to do it that way. Unfortunately, however, I can’t rely on my foreign exchange student anymore because he just killed himself.

This is insane.

Do you remember that story I told you about how my ex-boyfriend called me up one day because he was having problems with his girlfriend? He said he was calling all his exes to find out what we didn’t like about him back when we dated him, but then got really mad when I gave him an answer–remember that one? Yeah well, I can’t believe I’m saying this but there is actually a part 2 to the story now. A freaking part 2!

To keep things simple, I’m going to call the ex-boyfriend “Mr. X.” I originally wanted to go with “Mr. Ex Who Regularly Commits Felony Douche Baggery,” but I’m too lazy to type that out.

Okay, so this past Tuesday I was really busy playing “Rune Factory Frontier” when my game was rudely interrupted by a phone call.

Silence.

More silence.

I decided to hang up because it was obvious that this was just another telemarketer trying to shill me some crap. Those calls always start out with long silences before a robotic voice comes on and starts telling me that I need to take advantage of some debt refinancing services right away or else the devil is going to take my soul and make me watch Nicolas Cage movies for the rest of my afterlife. Nooooo!

But just as I was about to hang up, the caller decided to start talking:

Huh? Mr. X? Why was this girl asking me about him? Oh! Mr. X must have finally gotten arrested for all the felonious douche baggery he had done, and this person was an investigator who was building a case against him!

Okay, that probably wasn’t why she called, but it didn’t matter to me. What did matter, however, was that she was taking up my valuable playing time! I had a lot of farming and rune stuff to do, and chatting with this person was putting me behind schedule.

So I answered this chick’s question in hopes that it would be the end of the phone call. That turned out to be a mistake.

I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her correctly: did she just accuse me of f*cking Mr. X?

OMG! She did!

You know, someone should tell her that wrongfully accusing others is not the way to avoid starting drama…

It quickly became apparent that whomever this girl–this “Miss Rotted Crotch” hag bag–was trying to reach, it definitely wasn’t me.

I’m guessing Rotted Crotch had Mr. X’s cell phone records or something in front of her. That was probably how she got my phone number, and was able to tell me exactly when Mr. X had called.

While I like a good drama as much as anyone else, I prefer to watch mine on television. I did not want any part in what was clearly a very messy (and diseased) lovers’ quarrel.

“The other girl I called before”? This chick was insane!

…Insane and retarded.

Hooray! I had finally won my freedom!

Nooooooooo!

Oops…I accidentally said that outloud.

A word of advice to those of you who are considering Rotted Crotch’s tactics: don’t do it. Hello! You’re lying about having a venereal disease! Most people lie and say they’re clean when they’re actually not, so when you later decide to let everyone in on the joke–i.e., that you really don’t have an STD–no one is going to believe you. Instead, they’re all thinking that you’re lying about lying.

OMG…this girl was unbelievable. It was bad enough that she had interrupted my “Rune Factory Frontier” time to yell at me, but now that we had gotten everything cleared up, she was asking me for relationship advice?! She didn’t have herpes–she had syphilis!

Since I’d already spent so much time with her, I decided to just use up a little more to answer her question. What would I do if I were her, huh? Hmm…I’d probably throw myself in front of a train…or lie in the pathway of some stampeding elephants. You know, something that would obliterate my pathetic existence from the face of the planet.

I ended up not giving her an answer…not a straight one anyway.

AAAAAAAAAARGH!

Insane and retarded…definitely.

P.S. The pick-up line I made up in the previous post was the second one. Thanks for playing!

I don’t go out on New Year’s Eve, but I have friends who do, and every year one of them will have a story about being hit on by a douche bag who used a really lame pick-up line to try to get into her pants.

But 2011 must be special because I got to hear two stories from two different friends who had gone to two different parties–but were both hit on by guys using the worst pick-up lines the world has ever known. These lines were so bad that one friend actually thought she was being punked on a hidden camera show…and when she realized that wasn’t the case, she started thinking the guy hitting on her was one of the douche bags on the “Jersey Shore”–which totally freaked her out because she didn’t want to be near anyone who was on that show. Hello! The cast members all have, like, an aura of gonorrhea! So you need to be extremely careful if you ever find yourself in the same space as one of them because there is a very high risk of getting a nasty disease just by standing within their disease-catching radius (which I’m guessing is about 5 feet…).

The stories are awful in a way that makes them really funny, and my friends were both generous enough to let me share them with you…as long as drew myself as the target of the pick-up lines. Maybe because they don’t want to relive their experiences when they read this post…? It better not be because they are afraid someone would see a bunch of stick figures in triangle dresses and recognize who I was trying to depict. I would not be able to look at them the same way again–i.e., as people with functioning brains.

I said I had two stories to share with you, but you will probably notice that I actually drew 3 different scenarios. That’s because I made one up…you know, to make things a bit more interesting. Care to guess which one is fake?

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Guess! Guess! Guess! You know you want to!