My eyes slowly roll back into my head when someone starts off a conversation with, “Oh my gawd, did you see what so and so posted on Facebook.” Well first of all, I don’t give a shit about Facebook. That’s when I quickly realize I have to rephrase that last sentence. I give a crap about the people I know, I just don’t give a shit about most of the nonsensical dribble that is posted most of the time. Does anyone remember the good ole days of it? Fancy me a hopeless romantic.
Let’s face it the only one laughing all the way to the bank is the Zuckster.
I mean honestly I adore your kid, but I could really care less that they shit in the big kid toilet today. If we are being completely honest here, I like to shit in the big kid toilet myself. Once in awhile though I like to pretend I’m a bear and squat in the woods just for giggles.
It sure is fabulous that you’ve jetted off to Europe again; I so enjoy you complaining about the hotel not being up to par. The hotel I’m staying in at the moment “Su Casa Express” is a dump, you should stop by and stay here sometime then you’d really have something to complain about.
Oh that selfie of you and your new boo is so cute (hold on a sec whilst I wipe the sarcasm from my lips). I must say though he is scarily reminiscent of the previous 4-ex husbands you met online. Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned method of picking a future potential ex through beer goggles in a bar? But enough said already.
The split-personality roller coaster, where one day you are so happy and you are telling everyone that you have the best life and family in the world, the next you are back to complaining in detail about your horrible sucky life. Slowly back away from someone like that because when his or her shit finally blows the splatter will be felt for miles.
You’re my hero, seriously wow, only 46 miles of rugged terrain with bobcats lunging out at you from above all the while avoiding barbed shrapnel, mild hypothermia, and the need for mustard packets on your walk today. Fuck, I’m exhausted just from going downstairs and getting more cookies when I ran out while sitting at my desk working.
Holy soup dumplings that five-star meal your are sharing with me today is totes-mazing, It was only $300 a person and the wine was a steal at $200 a bottle, well I guess me complaining about paying an extra $2 for guac at Chipotle doesn’t sound quiet so ridiculous now.
If you haven’t experienced Facebook for yourself you really should. I mean where else in the world can folks get together and act like they like each other online, but don’t talk to each other in real life. I think it is a lot like looking into a snow globe in the middle of a blizzard when all of a sudden you catch a glimmer of hope.
Disclosure: I made absolutely zero dollars for writing this post, I accepted zero free products, there are zero affiliate links on this post, zero dollars in advertising revenues were collected from this post.
Second disclosure: Shit I just made absolutely zero today, does that make me a zero? Perhaps I should have spent my time writing a GoFundMe page so people could contribute to a pity fund so I can experience the lifestyle everyone else on Facebook seems to be enjoying.
Third disclosure: I have my qualms about the effectiveness of disclosures, I mean I may have not been smart enough to make a buck here today, but I'm pretty sure when you name drop 15 times that you are leaving on your road trip in a “Ford, Toyota, Chevy, etc.” or you make sure and name drop the cruise line your sailing, or the hotel you are staying at, etc. that you were being compensated to do so.
Fourth disclosure: My apologies to the uninitiated, but blogging innuendo humor never gets old around here.
Fifth disclosure: The only truthful fact in entirety in this post is that I survived twenty-five years of my life sentence with Hot Dog Dude as of yesterday. “Hello 1991 and the biggest sleeves on a wedding dress known to man”. Truth two: It was so heavy I could barely keep it up and it itched like crazy (I actually had a rash). The dress sat at my mom’s house for almost 20 years until she forced me to take it off her hands. When the guilt finally got the better of me that it would be cruel to try and guilt one of my girls into wearing it; off to charity it went. Had I known then what I know now, it would have been blinged out wedding yoga pants and sparkly running shoes!