Facebook — It’s Addictive


I have revised my opinion about Facebook.  My initial impression was that it was a complete waste of time and about as delightful as eating brussel sprouts.  But I have since discovered that some of my friends do have more interesting things happen to them than, “Nicole is brushing her teeth.”

I discovered that those friends who only leave comments behind about brushing their teeth and backing out of their driveways can be conveniently blocked from appearing on my home page.  By thus editing out the nonessential material, I make it easier to tune in to the soap opera lives of my remaining friends.  This can be most entertaining.

Sometimes it is downright embarrassing, though, as I involuntarily become witness to family spats carried on for all the world to see.  I do wish those who quarrel would do it through their private mailboxes, but I guess the idea is, if you’re mad, defacing the offender’s wall with snide remarks is more fun.  Perhaps by defacing cyber walls, people restrain themselves from taking a can of spray paint to the offender’s real-life siding.

But on to happier thoughts — the entertaining side of Facebook.  I learn the most interesting things there, that no one would otherwise bother to tell me.  I am now aware that my son-in-law carries six-foot-long black snakes around the church parking lot on the end of a stick when he has nothing better to do with his time.  And, that my daughter was tempted to save the state of Pennsylvania years of penal institution costs by personally administering a lethal injection to a defendant there.  She figured he deserved it, and besides, she didn’t want to have to sit on the jury listening to the rest of the gross details of what he had done to deserve life in prison (or lethal injection).  I learned that several people I thought were gentle souls harbor secret desires to murder bunnies in their backyard — all for the sake of saving a few petunias.  (This, however, is probably not as serious as desiring to give the arrested personage a lethal injection.)  I now know the intimate details of certain people’s surgeries, and can only hope they will not upload photos to further enlighten us all on their “procedures.”

I have discovered which of my friends sit down to Facebook at 6:00 a.m. and do not unglue from it until 11:00 p.m.  I also know from the nonstop quizzes they take about themselves

1.)  Which of Jesus’ disciples they are like (so far, no Judases)

2.)  Which celebrities they look like (so far, no Phyllis Dillers or Jimmy Durantes)

3.)  Which cartoon character best fits their personalities (“You are Piglet — a faithful friend to the Pooh Bears in your life, but your voice is rather squeaky, and you have cotton batting where your brains belong.  However, cheer up!  Your congeniality makes up for your intelligence deficiencies, so everyone loves you just the way you are.”)

I know who joined the “Save the Brazilian three-footed pygmy toad from extinction” group, who sprinkles Skittles on her oatmeal, who consults her horoscope and ought to know better, and who slathers ketchup on his shredded wheat.

It’s a strange world.  Thank you, Facebook, for widening my horizons.


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