Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Dumping Facebook

Facebook and I have what you call a rocky relationship. It’s kind of like dating somebody you know is wrong for you, but you do it regardless for selfish reasons of indulgence. Therefore, I have decided to break up with Facebook via a letter because I’m very old-fashioned and felt texting was inappropriate.

Dear Facebook,

I remember when I first laid eyes on you in a dark, isolated room. I was taken immediately by your natural beauty and all your endless communication possibilities. On our first date we caught up with old friends and looked at their photos. The first time we made love I was networking and shamelessly plugging my blogs, but then all of the sudden our relationship took a turn for the worse.

I saw the dark side of you. You’re extremely addicting. I think John Mayer said it best when he referred to Jessica Simpson as sexual napalm. Even though I have no idea what that means, I think you are my sexual napalm. It’s gotten to the point where I cannot go a second without checking how you’re doing and all of your status updates.  Whether I’m in an elevator, at a red light, or taking care of business in the little boy’s room… I cannot help but find out about how a so-called “friend” is stuck in traffic or how many eggs they have collected on Farmville.
I also cannot stand how you make me waste countless hours staring at people’s photos I hardly even know. If these people even knew I was looking at their personal photo album, they would have a restraining order against me and I would have to live in a hut in some third world country.

My new home
 Another thing I dislike about you is how you are a tease and inflate people’s egos by showcasing their birthday, so they get endless amounts of attention on their wall. (Side note: People, please settle down with the FB birthday wishes. How about a new rule where you only wish somebody happy birthday if you would actually pick up the phone and verbally tell them happy birthday?)

I know this is hard for me to do and I’m going to miss you deeply, but I think it’s time we go our separate ways. I realize there are going to be times where it’s late at night and I’ve gotten tired of ESPN.com and You Tube (more likely You Porn) and I want to give you a booty call and see how you’re doing. Hopefully, I'll have the self-control to not log-in with my secretive password and hear your sultry, comforting voice. Facebook, I really do appreciate the time we’ve had together, but I'm afraid it’s over.

Warm Regards,


P.S. I’m not falling for your crap where you call me a few weeks later and tell me you’ve missed your period.     


-Apparently my precious Red Prius has some type of bullseye on it.  A lovely gentleman decided to make a U-Turn on a busy street and for whatever struggled to complete the U-Turn… So he then decided to smash right into my driver’s door.

Poor baby... I still love you no matter how you look.

I have fortunately gotten the car back and from the outside it looks fixed, but there is just something about it that’s not the same. It’s similar to a veteran coming back from Vietnam. Yeah they made it back alive, but mentally they are shaken for the rest of their life.   

-Speaking of driving… I don't like to make generalizations, but I work in Koreatown, which allows me to share the streets with numerous Koreans. After studying them closely, I’ve come to the conclusion Koreans are not aware you are allowed to inch up into the median when making a left turn at a green light. I cannot tell you how many left turns I’ve missed because of this issue. If you know of any Koreans in the LA area, please spread the word to them so I can actually get to work on time!   

-Since we just talked about Koreans, let’s move on to Persians shall we? I have this nice Persian gentleman neighbor who tends to like to chat a little bit too much. The other day I was coming back home and he told me I have a beautiful voice. I looked around because I thought maybe he was talking to somebody else or something. But apparently my Persian neighbor can hear me sing outside my shower window. There are two problems with this situation… A) I wasn’t even aware I was singing in the shower. B) Why the hell is he listening to me in the shower? I mean do I need to go back wearing my rape whistle when I bathe?  

-Speaking of nudity... I was able to check out the movie “Love and Other Drugs.” The movie was actually pretty decent, but I gotta admit Anne Hathaway’s boob shots increased my overall rating of the movie from two and a half stars to four stars. Overly obvious joke of the day: How come Anne Hathaway’s breasts didn’t win best supporting actress? 

-Continuing on the nudity topic...Has anybody noticed the high percentage of men in porn that wear watches while they are performing? What’s the point of the watch? I find it very distracting and not consistent with the character they are trying to portray. And just to clarify, I'm not just watching men, there are women involved too. And to clarify one more time, I don't watch porn, but I have friends that do. 

-(Okay, I've given up on the witty transitions) The other day I waddled into Walgreens during my lunch break and a female customer walked up to me and asked if I could help her find something. I then explained to her that I don’t work at Walgreens. She replies, “Oh, I thought you did.” Dumbass, what exactly about me in my maroon button down shirt tucked into black dress pants tells you I work at Walgreens? Let me guess, if you saw me at Hooters you probably would think I was a waitress there too?   

-Very rarely do I talk about music, but I have a few things on my mind to share…
1. I cannot stop listening to Adele’s song “Rolling in the Deep.” It feels like a throwback to an oldies song or something.
2. Anybody who knows me is aware I have a severe, but healthy man crush on Dave Grohl. So I was watching a documentary about the Foo Fighters (the greatest band in the world) and did you know after Kurt Cobain passed away Tom Petty offered him the drummer position in his band? I love Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, but thank God my snookums made the decision to start his own band.
3. How in the heck are The Strokes a successful band? Honestly, I rather listen to myself sing in the shower, while a middle-aged Persian male stares at me with a giant grin. 
I’m Out!