Posts tagged “Farcebook

Raw

I wake up this morning to discover that I am single. She’s left me. In the middle of the night. For another guy.

Its a lovely little note, full of sweet comments about how much better he is in bed than I am and how fulfilled he makes her feel. I file it with all the others and then do what anyone else would do in such a situation, I change my Faecbook relationship status back to ‘single’. Next, I pop round to some friends and get myself lots of hugs, have a little rant, a little cry and a cup of tea. Then I have to get back to work.

I’m self employed, see, and my boss is a real wanker – although sometimes he’ll give me the afternoon off if I give him a hand job, (thankfully, he’s never asked me to suck his dick, I don’t think my back could take it). Once at my desk, I do what any self-respecting writer does, I go onto Farcebook, and its amazing, its like it can read my mind.

Within two hours of my declaration of singledom, Fartbook has filled my sidebar with adverts for women. The variety is astounding. I can find Christian girlfriends or date black women, I can even have a girlfriend in a uniform if I want. One says “Women over 40.” although there is no way the woman in the picture is even halfway to 40. I can date a ‘pretty Chinese girl’ or ‘1,000s of Japanese women’ and I wonder if that means you have to date them all at the same time. I’m even offered a choice of vegetarian women – why would I care what someone does or doesn’t eat?

I click on one and it takes me to a site called serioussingles.co.uk and I start to fill out my profile. There are some obvious questions, like gender and age and location. They want to know my ethnicity, which I guess is important for a lot of people, although it isn’t for me, and they want to know how much I earn, which is fair enough I guess, but I’m a writer and there isn’t a box marked ‘zero’. Next they ask me what religion I am. I scan the list for atheist or antitheist but they’re not there, and all I can click on is ‘none’, which is wrong because I believe in plenty of shit, just not any of the shit with the tick boxes on their page. Then, they start to piss me off.

The next page is about my interests, what kind of music I like, that kind of thing. I don’t get to type in genres or my favourite bands or anything, oh no. I have to pick from a list. Well, guess what? Rastabilly Skank and Bulgarian Hip-Hop weren’t even there. I get a list of bands I might like. Now sure, I like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Primal scream, but where on that list are Bad Sin and The Tofu Love Frogs? Anyway, I click on  ‘rock’ and ‘blues’ and ‘new wave’. New wave! Really? The next screen loses me completely.

The next page of my profile is all about what ‘hairstyle’ I have, and again, I don’t get to choose. I mean, why the fuck would anyone select a partner on the basis of hairstyle? I want a woman who is beautiful, its not about how “hot” she is. I don’t care if she’s bald as long as her heart shines. I look down the list and… surprise surprise, mohawk isn’t there. This is the point where I click ‘cancel’ and would have clicked ‘fuck you’ too if they had such a button.

Tonight my friends are gonna take me out and get me laid. Gonna cheer me up. I’ll go along with it, in the belief that it will work, I just hope the poor girl doesn’t mind me crying while I fuck her.

Good night, sweetheart
It’s time to go now
Arrivederci,
tally-ho,
au revoir,
adio
You’ve been so wonderful,
I don’t wish to go
But this
completes
my show.

Goodnight sweetheart – I will always love you x


Why we don’t need Facebook, but why I do

I spend most of my life on Farcebook, and being banned, even for a short time, prevented me from playing with a lot of my friends.

In a tiny way, I went through ‘the five stages of grief’:

  • denial: I tried instantly to message someone – the result was an automated message from fb threatening to bar me for longer if i tried it again
  • Anger: I decided never to go on Fartbook again
  • Bargaining: I tried to mail them – but you cannot
  • Depression: I really missed some of my friends and sulked around the house – I ended up doing the washing up and the hoovering
  • Acceptance: I finally understood that Facebook is not a piece of holy scripture, it is not the bloody constitution: its a social networking website – and nothing more

go get yourself banned from Fuckbook… I dare you.


Top Ten Status Updates

I was looking through my old Farcebook status updates – these were my top ten, in no particular order. Please help yourselves, and feel free to add some of your own in the comments section, I am sure to use them:

  • “will be as faithful to you as a dog and come every time you whistle”
  • “is bigger on the inside”
  • “remembers the time you ate his goldfish”
  • “wanted to unleash a deadly computer virus on you all but couldn’t master the technology – would you mind manually deleting all the important files from your hard drive please and pass this on to fifty of your friends?”
  • “is why they put a warning on the box”
  • “knows where you live”
  • “doesn’t understand why the cat was in the bag in the first place”
  • “says the first law of thermodynamics is that we don’t talk about thermodynamics”
  • “is proof that ancient man mated with neanderthals”
  • “bought some batteries, but they weren’t included”

The real world vs Farcebook

A little while back, I was temporarily barred from Farcebook. It was a very strange experience, as I generally spend most of my life there. The way it works is quite strange – you can still access your account, whilst barred, and see what all your friends are up to but you cannot join in – any attempt to post or comment is met with a swift rebuke from the Fartbook police and a threat of an extended ban. I felt like a naughty child, forced to stand in a corner whilst everybody else played.

Anyway I decided, that, rather than sit there and sulk, I would go and see if there was still such a thing as the real world… and guess what? There is: it is called Twitter.