it's alienation time, boys and girls
Do you want to know what I hate today? I say all this bullshit about the grad office being Nazis or fat people wearing spandex (or other forms of tight-fitting clothing), but the thing I hate most of all is Facebook. I know that if you're reading this blog, you probably have a blog too, and if you have a blog, you're probably urban-techno-chic enough to be on Facebook. I'm sorry, but I hate you.
At first, I wasn't sure if I just hated the outlet (the actual website itself) or if the sheep who grazed in that pasture were the ones to blame. I think that an unequal measure of hatred shall be dished out to both, in accordance. Of course I already hate Froyd, so he is exempt...but the rest of you fuckers have been ostracized.
I wanted to see what the goddamn hubbub was all about, so I signed up today. After looking around for some people that I know, reading various things that weren't meant for human eyes (mine anyway), and looking at a rickockulous collection of drunk pictures, some including people I know, I said "FUNK DAT."
I am now going to attempt to delete said account. Don't look for me on Facebook. If I get an email saying "The BDawg has added you to his friends list," I will get in my car with my collection of fire pokers, my 18 volt cordless drill, and salad tongs, bound for Indiana, Pennsylvania. You will remember my name after that trip.
Keep your fucking campfire singalong, hand holding, keep in touch with warmest thoughts, I'm stuck in high school/college and I have no future bullshit! I'll be the guy with the can of gas, ready to warm up your little, happy party.
Don't talk to me after this. I'm pretty riled up and plan on being so for the next...oh, rest of my life.
At first, I wasn't sure if I just hated the outlet (the actual website itself) or if the sheep who grazed in that pasture were the ones to blame. I think that an unequal measure of hatred shall be dished out to both, in accordance. Of course I already hate Froyd, so he is exempt...but the rest of you fuckers have been ostracized.
I wanted to see what the goddamn hubbub was all about, so I signed up today. After looking around for some people that I know, reading various things that weren't meant for human eyes (mine anyway), and looking at a rickockulous collection of drunk pictures, some including people I know, I said "FUNK DAT."
I am now going to attempt to delete said account. Don't look for me on Facebook. If I get an email saying "The BDawg has added you to his friends list," I will get in my car with my collection of fire pokers, my 18 volt cordless drill, and salad tongs, bound for Indiana, Pennsylvania. You will remember my name after that trip.
Keep your fucking campfire singalong, hand holding, keep in touch with warmest thoughts, I'm stuck in high school/college and I have no future bullshit! I'll be the guy with the can of gas, ready to warm up your little, happy party.
Don't talk to me after this. I'm pretty riled up and plan on being so for the next...oh, rest of my life.
posted by stephen at 4:23 PM
4 Comments:
The hot poker, drill, salad tongs thing also applies to anyone who posts a picture of me on their little page. Although I think that right now, the odds of that are fairly slim.
Death to you all.
myspace is even worse.
BDawg, I'll be your friend until the day I put your cold, dead ass 6 feet in the Pennsylvania dirt. However, I do not need to be on a website to appreciate our friendship. Perhaps if you weren't a beotch and hadn't moved across the country then we might not be having this discussion.
PS, I had a handlebar mustache for a couple weeks. It rocked pretty hard. That would have been a good picture. However, I rarely allow pictures to be taken of me, so this is a futile discussion.
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