My Some What Life Without Facebook

Alright, so I've been busy.  I've been procrastinating a good deal and have been dealing with "issues" (most of which I've had for the better part of a lifetime). Plus, I've been writing-ish...a book.  It's about dying in a comic fashion, not getting into Heaven, then, breaking into Heaven with the help of lesbians...and masturbation.  I know what you're thinking...

Best seller, amiright?  

In that time of writing, procrastination and "issues", I've dumped out of social circulation.

For over a year and some change...off and on, I've lived without Facebook. I know, I know...I'm insane, right? It's unthinkable to be out of all seeing eye of the Internet for that long. It's reckless. According to 99% of humanity, its akin to trimming pubes with a hot iron attached to a speeding train.

I survived to tell the tale and have come out of the other side a newer, fatter, slightly less enlightened version of myself.

Here are a few tidbits I've managed to accomplish and things I've learned between my normal bouts of masturbating while sobbing uncontrollably. Obviously.

You Have A Lot More Time!

Facebook eats your time like a fat kid

 at a bacon buffet

Did I get a lot of things done without Facebook? I think the answer is...KIND OF! Before, when I trolled through Facebook's offerings, I would zombie out in front of that ever expanding friend fed timeline thing and lose an entire day.

Without it, I built a guitar (several actually) and started two books. Though, whether I finish the books, who the fuck knows. Would I have even attempted to start that shit beforehand? No.

As it turns out, Facebook is a huge fucking time drain and it doesn't even have a pop up to warn you about it. That's fucked up, right?  If something was draining your life, minute by minute, drawing your attention away from potentially life enhancing things like...curing cancer or developing super powers, you'd want to know, right? Albeit, you'd probably be fucking pissed too.  Something standing between me and X-Ray vision?! What the fuck!

Yet, Facebook does it everyday.  It's probably doing it right now.  See what happens without it for a bit.  You'd be surprised.

You might think you'll miss out on a lot though.  People living their lives without you being tapped into it, yeah? Well, as it turns out...

Nothing Changed...really

Ignore the hand shaking...I don't know what the hell that means...

A year is a long fucking time or at least I thought it was until time froze or something. I left the magical book of faces only to come back to the exact same things.  People, as it happens, don't do much.  Well, that is to say, they don't do much when they have Facebook spewing phones and tablets at their disposal.  They more or less spin their wheels.

Forgive me, for I thought that with the passage of time came movement. Movement meaning, significant changes in one's situation, life and or hair color/style.

Who would have thought that without checking on whether an acquaintance's cat is sick or just pregnant, that there was room to do other things? As it would happen, the social media in general are severely counter-intuitive.  It's true.  While you're constantly checking on updates or interesting things others are doing, you're not doing anything interesting yourself.  Multiply that by everyone you're checking up on all the time and boom...nothing happens.  Fucking crickets.

Not That It Matters

 

Damn right, Calvin.

Maybe I'm just bitter, as I've always been kind of a downer person, but does anything on Facebook actually matter?

I mean, the parts of it that people tout as "useful" and "important" can easily be performed in ways that are easier to do.  Want to share pictures?  Send them to someone on your phone via text or something.  Want to send someone a message?  Send them a text or email or something like that directly.  What else is Facebook good for?  Oh, you're mentally listing them, so I'll cut to the chase...

Facebook isn't for sharing.  It's for our twisted entertainment, like Candy Crush or one of those other games I don't play except with real people.  It's amusement at the expense of your friends and family for your benefit.  Don't think so?  Tell me about all the times you scrolled past some acquaintance's kid because, fuck that person's kids or all those goofy Right-wing/Left-wing memes because, fuuuuck politics, no one cares they're sooooo boring.  Right?  That is exactly the kind of shit that's in the way of a Facebook tiff between two potential divorcees that you've been meaning to follow up on...secretly.  

No one makes their way through a timeline to check out a 6 year old's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.  Well, unless you're a long distant relative who has a passing interest as to whether that kid is looking more and more like the guy/girl the mother/father cheated on the mother/father with. 

More or less... 

All in all, I kind of miss it, though I didn't participate a lot.  Still, being in contact with everyone was helpful, to some degree, still I've managed to greatly reduce the mental white noise Facebook seems to generate in everyone's lives.  Though, I can't say that I haven't found alternatives to the habit forming draw that social media provides. It would seem that I've substituted smack for PCP (or some drug abusing shit like that).  I've become a Quora bitch as of late, but in my own defense...I can't help it...the political questions are like crack.

Writer's...uh--block!

      Lately, the insidious bastard called "writer's block" has seized me. Though, I'm not completely bereft of ideas, I just come to a stand still on their execution. So, rather than do what comes natural, like, punch myself in the testicles and screaming, "WRITE, DAMMIT!", I'll try something different. I'll write my way out of it.

It's better than attic banishment. Anything...is better than attic banishment.

      This isn't easy for me in the least, writer's block has put me off of writing for years on end before. I believe it's the confidence shattering lack of production that kills me. Oh, and the nonexistent pay, benefits and noteriety. When coupled with my lack of ambition and small penis, I am sad mediocrity incarnate.

So, how do I start? Maybe a story...

      Years ago, before the time of Lancelot Link Secret Chimp, Al Pacino movies (like this one -->N01-097808 Heat - Al Pacino - Two Disc Special Edition) worth watching and "Rush" there lived a puppet maker who dreamed of having a son. One day he decided that--wait. Am I re-writing Pinnochio? Is that what I'm doing here? Let me re-think...uh, puppet, puppet makes a wish--fucking cricket. Goddammit!

What can I say? I'm a dick.

      Great, I plagiarize classic children's stories when trying to beat writer's block. Nice. What a remarkable thing to learn about yourself. It's like discovering a split personality that secretly records squirrels fucking.

      I recently watched a video of John Cleese giving a speech about making a time, space do...something. I don't know what he said exactly, I was kind of angry at my shoes at the time. Regardless, I got the gist of the message, which was to make time for yourself to think. Time I don't have, unfortunately, so, I'm going to go the full on other way and ramble, like a drunken, senile old man, talking his way out of a medication increase and pants wearing.

I'm hip!

      I blame all of this on drugs. Not prescription drugs of course. The kind you get from someone's remarkably well maintained basement. Well, okay, prescription drugs too. Man, if I had known then...I'd...probably still have done drugs. Who am I kidding? I have no will power. I'd probably end up doing an ass load more just to show up my younger self. That's what kind of dickhead I am. 

      Though, the idea of traveling back in time intrigues me. What would I tell my younger self? Would I lie and tell him that I'm a world leader that single-handedly legalized marijuana and Monty Python required viewing for an English Literature doctorate? Maybe, I could tell him that regardless of what people tell you, you really did learn everything you need to know in kindergarten. Would it be beneficial to share information that would end in monetary gain? Maybe, yammer on about how a site called "Facebook" is, how it sucks the life out of millions of people everyday and that I should save some money and buy some stock in it when it goes public. I think the life wasting aspect would have appealed to me back then. I was kind of a dark side teen. I blame that on HBO. Oh, I could tell myself about Google and Microsoft and want not too! I'd be a mega-millionaire by the time most people have given up on any real semblance of a happy future. Man, I could acquire my own estate (here in to for referred too as "The Compound Ala Elton"). Things would just get sweeter from then on. 

This came up when I searched for "The Compound". 

Who am I to argue. 

Thank you Google Images, yet another win.

      Compound Ala Elton would be stocked with first rate...everything. From food to mixed wildlife blood sport death fights, everything would be top notch at Ala Elton. I'd invite movie stars and world leaders to my Compound, only to turn them away at the gate for reasons ranging from "You're appearance demonstrates your astounding lack of brain smarts" to "You reek of failure.". Oh, what a splendid life it would be...for a while, then, I'd just die cold and alone, surrounded by the latest...everything, laying in a pile of money and naked, willing super models fondling my newly lifeless corpse. Screw you humbleness! 

Oh, who am I kidding. I'd probably just go back in time to tell myself to sleep with more women. You're only young once! 

Fuck I hate writer's block. 

Re-post My Internet Rage!

      I was going to write a nifty post about the joys of Valentine's Day, but, due to the high volume of unprotected sex I was having with farm animals, at gun point, I wasn't able to write one. Oh, those crazy situations I pay to get wrapped up in...oh boy. Besides, a funny English guy did it better than I could anyway. Instead, I wanted to fling a few subtle, tasty words at blind following and fucking ignorance. The kind of shit you find bandied around in everyday life...everyday. Especially your internet life. It sounds more horrific than it is...and way, way more fun.

"What?", expresses the overly white man.

      In this day and age, a time when the internet can be found on computers, in cars and inches from your testicles (or birth canal), it's incredible how rarely it is used to find accurate information. Instead, blindly posted or re-posted shit that appeals to a poster's sense of "right or wrong", gets sent to gazillions of people, everyday. 

      Whatever seems to ring true for someone's particular slant is sent on to others, filling their lives with ceaseless diatribes about how the troops are getting "fucked over" by the government (i.e the man) or how instead of researching important stuff like A.I.D.S., we spend BILLIONS on left handed pencils...or monkeys humping basketballs. 

      This of course escalates rage fits and causes BILLIONS of dollars of embarrassing pee pee stains in pants...or something. The biggest offenders are social media sites. Fucking Facebook. It can be funny at times and disconcerting at others.

      Most of the time it's harmless, some chick has cancer and she needs prayers. That's fine. It's sad that, instead of blindly re-posting it, you could have looked her up, to find she died years ago and you're perpetuating a worthless plea. Maybe you could find someone who really could use prayers. Still, what's the harm anyway, right? Who couldn't use prayers?

This is what Google thinks when you

 search for "I can't use prayers". 

Thanks again Google. 

      The re-posted shit that twists my nipples, are the politico, fuck our government sort. It's filled with distended, torqued and abused misinformation. It's usually about how the government is fucking someone over. Some valiant form of working class (insert heroic job title here), WHILST the government scoffs at their plights and over pays itself instead. Basically, the horseshit Snopes.com de-bunks daily with facts. Still, the misinformation lives on. Why? We're on the porn-formation super highway. Take a second to look some shit up! Be curious.

You should have seen the night mare 

Google spit out for "bi-curious". 

I threw up in my mouth a little. 

      Alas, it's easier to simply read, say, "Hey, that sounds right! The fucking pricks." and pass it on to the rest of everyone. It's hilarious at times. Will anyone ever get over Obama being born a citizen? Probably not. It's easier to think that a man named Barack was born on a terrorist breeding ground, breast fed on bullets and hatred of America, rather than to actual Americans. 

      Who the hell would name their kid Barack? Well, other than parents with either Swahili heritage or an interest in it. Barack, is an anglicized version of Baraka, which means "blessing". How about that. 

      So, take note avid internet viewer person. Things on the internet aren't always what they seem. People are sometimes stupid, dishonest, misinformational spewing bastards (usually with mullets). Don't leap blindly on a band wagon! Use the world wide web for something other than Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook and anal bead price checking. When you see something that looks patriotic and includes a list of facts. Check them out. Why not? What else are you doing, right? Well, besides rummaging around in your pants for...change? Oh god.  

A "Fuck You", You May Know, Facebook.

      Alright, Facebook, what the fuck. I understand. You make assumptions, hell, everyone makes assumptions. I'm not bagging on you for that, but, maybe you should, I don't know, make an effort to help out. Facebook, what makes you think I know some of these fucking people?

I'm kinda fuzzy on the cartoonishly hideous eyebrow girl, Facebook.

Try again.

      It's not that, I don't know SOME of them. Chances are, that if they know twenty, some odd people, that I  surreptitiously rub up against for, you know, boners, I probably know them. Some of them though, Facebook, are just complete fucking strangers. I might know them, if they know one other person I know? Ehh...no. Probably not. I, like most of the world, gather friends in groups. Meaning, while involved in an organization. Be it through school, work or porn addicts anonymous, we get our "friends" via some communal enterprise. Have you ever met one random person, outside of any groupish setting, that wasn't in that group in some way? You have? Are you one of those freaks that gives strangers hugs at the mall? Are you a phone-sex operator?

Fondle your balls, Mr. Johnson? Sure! Oh, by the way  here's my Facebook.

So, that being said, Facebook, the chances of me knowing a single person via...ONE other person is off by good chunk of rationality. The possibility of at least a few of my "friends" knowing them is far more probable. Drop the single friend association. It's retarded. Though, not as retarded as some Facebook users that you assume I might know.

Yeah, she TOLD you, Facebook. Boobs. Win!

      There should be a requirement, Facebook. A requirement stating that members should have at least one picture...featuring...that fucking member. Otherwise, they are to be labelled "retarded member". Ha...I said member a lot...get it? It's like...saying...dick. Never mind. Anyway, Facebook, when you suggest people I might know, I look through them and discover an ass load of people, WITH NO PICTURES! I'm not good with names, Facebook. Many people aren't. Now, you assume I MIGHT know these people, now, you're also assuming I know the full names of everyone I've ever met...ever. That's a lot of assumption, Facebook. When you assume I know a Jennifer...it could be one of a hundred different Jennifer's I have met. Many of those Jennifer's I wouldn't consider Facebook friend worthy. So, now, I have to check out their profile...

What the fuck do I do with that?

      Do I know a Bender? I have been on plenty, but, to friend one, no. So, now, I go through their pictures trying to find one of the person in question, so as to trigger some kind of recognition response, within my drug and alcohol ravaged memory. Instead, what I find is this...

Yep, looks just like his parents.

      Yeah, I find albums and albums of pictures of whoever in the fuck's kids. For the love of god, Facebook. Tell these people to take ONE picture of themselves. It would go a long way toward me not wanting to rip your non-existent throat out. Oh, and if they do take one, make it something, someone not legally blind would recognize as a person. Not this shit...

Wow. You haven't aged a bit.

      Who the fuck is that? Mom? Dad?...friend? Come closer so I can tell you...that you take SHITTY PICTURES! Come on, Facebook. Work with me here. You assume I know these people, now, help me to RECOGNIZE these people...or just stop...for the sake of our collective sanity. I want to make friends, Facebook. I really do. I'm not completely anti-social. I'd love nothing more than to stay in contact with everyone that I know, like and love via a cold, internet intermediary that shields me from actual human contact...but, come on. Do you have to be an asshole about it? 

Thank you, Facebook.