Timesucker

I have a love/hate relationship. It is with a little social bitch named Facebook. If I had to give it a gender, I envision it as a nerdy dude in too short corduroy pants, an old Atari t-shirt with pit stains, greasy unwashed hair, and a smattering of acne on it's pasty white face. But it is fucking genius because it has become a lifeline, an addiction, an obsession. It is my "go to" activity whenever I wake up, am bored, or want to communicate with my friends. It given me connectivity with relatives and friends near and far. I can chat with grade school pals I have not spoken to nor seen since 1987.

I feel like I need Facebook rehab sometimes. Yesterday there was some glitch that caused all of Facebook to crash for some time. I started panicking, becoming borderline frantic. My mind was racing with possibilities. Was it possibly just MY computer? What if that Zuckerberg dude decided to say, "Fuck it!" and put the kibosh on the whole thing. What if he decided, "You know, I am a billionaire. I am donating $100 million to the New Jersey school system and then I'm out. Those cocksuckers who made that new movie made me look like a douche bag. I'll show THEM who wears the pants in this little relationship!" Oh God, please, Mr. Zuckerberg, please don't do that. Then I looked at my beady eyes in the mirror and realized I was a social network crackhead asshole.

Just like with anything else, what did I do before I had luxuries like email? The internet? A cell phone? Tivo???? I dealt with life, as boring and non-technological as it was. But when you have a taste of the good life, it is so very hard to imagine life without it. Though I joke about it often, is THIS what it feels like to be hooked on crack the first time you try it? Well someone better get Dr. Drew on the horn because this bitch is getting the shakes, the shits, and pretty soon will need some God damn methadone to down off this monster buzz. I am acting as if life without Facebook would render me medieval, as rustic and rural as if I had no electricity and had to pump my own water from the well.

Facebook can cause problems other than total social dependency. The status updates we put up on our profiles can wreak havoc on our psyches, emotions, and self esteem. Is what she just wrote about ME? Why the hell did that moron like her OWN status? Look at those pictures from that party I was clearly NOT invited to? Guess that whore is off my Christmas card list this year. And then WHO should you accept friendship from? Your students? Your kids' friends? Ex-girlfriends and boyfriends? In-laws? It's a crap shoot, people, because if you are like me, the urgency to curse and make sexual innuendos is strong. And if the wrong person reads your post, they think you are highly classless for cursing, alluding to stinky crotch, or hairy nut sacks. I have not unfriended anyone because they have told me that I am offensive. I am not holding a gun to their head to read it. You don't have to press "Like" when I say my cooch smells like Funyuns after working out. I respect you if you want to unfriend me because it violates your own (fucking stupid) code of ethics. Or if your kids shouldn't read my shit--that I get.

Another downfall to Facebook is the opportunity to share photos from events. Sometimes when you have been hitting the sauce for a few hours with friends, you have a tendency to do really stupid stuff. Like doing the splits in the door. Or pretending you are muff diving up your BFF's jean skirt. Or flashing body parts and I'm not talking your elbow. There is often a Facebook Code before parties where whore galore pictures might be taken. There is the "Facebook photo appropriate" time frame of the party. Then there is the "Put that fucking camera away so my mother-in-law does not see my beaver" portion of the evening. You just have to be sure you don't piss off the wrong people at the party or all the untagging in the world will not make you get your job back. (Giving a BJ on the office copier at the holiday party probably wasn't a great idea...or those 8 rum and Cokes you chugged.)

So even though Facebook is highly addictive, causes me to neglect my children, grocery shopping, and feeding my dog, and will guarantee I will never, ever have a job in politics, don't expect me to quit it anytime soon. Am I in denial? Fuck yeah. Do I need some 12-step program to help me "get off the junk"? Probably, but since no one else wants to quit this euphoric social acid trip, don't try to trick me into meeting up at your Jesus freak church for "social hour" and then try to have some fucktard intervention over this. I can quit any time. I swear. And if you tell me otherwise, I will unfriend your as faster than you can say "superpoke".