Looking for a Fight

Have you made any New Year’s Resolutions? It’s day 2 and if you are anything like me you’ve already broken all of them. You can be honest with me. We’re all friends here and I won’t tell anyone. I promise.

One of my resolutions was to spend less time on Facebook. While looking at pictures of other people’s babies and knowing what this or that friend had for lunch today contributes to my quality of life, it impedes my ability to finish the list of 5 million tasks I’ve given myself to complete in a day. Maybe if I just included check Facebook eight hundred times on that list, I would feel like I accomplished more.

One of the funny things about Facebook is the strange arguments people have in the comments. I used to never get why anyone would bother arguing with someone on Facebook. I say used to because I found myself in a Facebook argument with someone I don’t even know just last week. This person obviously didn’t realize I write a humor blog.

The names have been changed to protect the not so innocent. Click the imagine twice to make it a more reasonable size to read.

facebook

This exchange went on and on, but I just posted the best part for you. I never thought that being called an idiot would make me laugh so hard. Now I spend even more time on Facebook than I ever did before. I’m not just looking at cute pictures of babies though. I’m looking for a fight.

Connect with Facebook

I go on Facebook quite a bit. I log on and I share things I feel like sharing about my life. Mostly I just snoop around and look at what other people are sharing about their lives. Facebook is one of the best inventions for snoops like myself. I especially enjoy looking at other people’s pictures. Don’t be scared. I’m not stalking you really. I’m just curious. There is one aspect of Facebook that has been getting on my nerves recently though.

Why does every site I sign up for want me to sign up through my Facebook account? I don’t want to share every single thing I do online with everyone I’m friends with on Facebook. If I want to listen to New Edition on Spotify I don’t want everyone to know. I don’t want to log into Facebook and see written on my wall that I listened to Mr. Telephone Man three time.

If I read an article about the worst Oscar dresses this year, I don’t want everyone I’ve ever spoken to in my entire life to know. I want to privately scoff at Gwyneth Paltrow’s caped dress as I sit on my sofa wearing a lovely green and blue cape of my own.

The other day I was on Rotten Tomatoes watching the trailer to 21 Jump Street when I noticed that Rotten Tomatoes was signed into my Facebook account somehow. Yes I was a 21 Jump Street fan in my younger days, but maybe I want to secretly jump down on Jump Street.

It’s bad enough that I can’t figure out how to unlink my Pintrest account from my Facebook account. I don’t want any other accounts linked to it too.

NOTE: The 21 Jump Street trailer looked terrible. 21 Jump Street is nothing without Hoffs, Hanson, Penhall, Ioki and Captain Fuller. Why would you remake a television classic like Jump Street? I just don’t understand.

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