Timeline: Demo T. Vader
Demo is in the house, yo!
Every morning the guru of negativity loads up his Facebook which pushily insists, “What’s on your mind?”
Oh no. I’m not about to fall for that one.
The people you’ve connected with on Facebook are called “friends.” Laws, yes. Friends. Good one!
Of the various types of content on Facebook, my favorite goes a little something like this:
- The opening: You want something. State what it is. Ex: “I’m curious how people feel about my sexual organs.”
- The insult: Get things rolling with a jab at your so-called “friends.” Ex: “I know only approx. 4-1/2 of you ever read my posts.”
- The hook: Describe the payoff in terms of pleasure centers of the brain that will glow upon compliance. “I’m going to give you a chance to prove your friendship.”
- The plea: This is the objective, the thing you hope to see accomplished. Ex: “Reply to this with a graphic description of your favorite sexual organ on my body. Sexual organs only, please!”
- The demanding social element: This is self-explanatory. Ex: “You must then copy this to your own timeline so my ego can grow. Please don’t comment and not copy to your own timeline.”
Out of respect, I’m not going to comment because I have absolutely no intention of following your rules. Thanks for trying to control me, though.
For the record:
- Yes, I actually read your shit. And I loathe myself for it.
- You can’t handle the truth. I won’t comment on our alleged “friendship.”
- It’s news to me that you have sexual organs so I’m unable to comment further.
- I will decide what pieces of evil hate go on my timeline. Not you. Nice effort, though.
- A real friend wouldn’t have done this. Thanks for reinforcing my theories.
Has Facebook invented a squelch feature yet or must I continue to be subjected to this crap with a little help from my friends?
Don’t facial me, Facebook!
Fuck off with this shiznit already!
I went to a party last night. I know, I know. That’s completely atypical behavior for your guru. I found out about it on Facebook and decided to RSVP. A friend of mine accepted a job offer and was moving out of town.
Of course, while at the party, which was held in a backyard, I found dog poop on my pants. I no longer bother asking, “Why me?” This sort of thing has become routine for me.
Facebook is something I use quite reluctantly and on a very minimal basis. I keep all of my privacy settings as restrictive as possible. Since new features get rolled out with me automatically opted-in this is an ongoing battle. Fuckers.
Part of maintaining my privacy is managing photographs of me. Controlling my profile is easy. I never upload any. Ever. But what happens when other people upload pictures of me to their Facebook profiles?
That’s when the fuck sets in.
Their settings may not be private. In fact, the pictures they upload may be open to the entire universe. Worse, thanks to Facebook’s “tagging” feature, people may be drawing little boxes around my face, providing a beautiful and convenient trail of breadcrumbs to shit I didn’t want online in the first place.
Fuck!
So I told everyone I knew at the party, “No photos, please. My people believe it steals your spirit.” No, I’m not a member of any tribal population. By “my people” I mean uptight motherfuckers and vengeful passive-aggressive assholes who will end you if you violate my wishes.
The problem? Everyone and their grandmother at the party had fucking devices all over them. Cell phones with cameras, smart phones, iPods, iPads and iPhones were all over the fucking place. Thankfully I saw no cameras, but what good is that when everyone is packing devices that will do the same damn thing?
Worse, they fiddled with these devices continually. They played with them as if they were as fun as their own damn genitals. “Oops. It’s been ten seconds again. Time for my to fondle my iPhone. Stand back! I’m not sure how big this thing gets.”
Disclosure: I also was packing a device. An iPod Touch. But I kept it in my pants while interfacing face-to-face with actual humans. I needed no app for that.
Long story short, this morning I woke up and received “notifications” from Facebook that I had been tagged in two photos.
Motherfuckers!!!
Yeah, one person at the party (who I had explicitly asked not to take my photograph) had posted images, two of which contained my fearful visage. Then, a different person at the party came along and drew the little motherfucking box around my face, “tagging” me in Facebook parlance.
I wrote the photographer and asked her to edit me out of the pictures or pull the pictures down. She replied, “I have removed the tags.” She didn’t do as I asked. Either she’s dumb or she thinks she knows better. Grrrr.
Yep. The pictures are still on the internet. Completely outside of my control. And I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that some other person can still come along, think they are being helpful, and tag the fuckshit out of them – again.
Conclusion
As a global citizen of this planet, and one not wishing my copyrighted bread and butter (my face) gets on the internet without my consent, there is only one option left to me. I’ll never go to another fucking function where there is anyone I know.
I’m going to get me a lawyer to start sending “cease and desist” letters to my so-called “friends.” Yes, once again, that is Facebook parlance.
Make no mistake about it. If I want a facial, I’ll do it myself.
Seeking investors: Ground floor opportunity (via Shouts from the Abyss)
I’m short on time, energy, ideas and skill today. That means it’s time for a reblog and a video, boys and girls!
First up, the video. I’d like to send this out as a long distance dedication. Also, the topic is somewhat fitting since I’m reblogging my own post. That has gots to be naughty.
I highly recommend this video for those of you who have good taste. It’s also a timeless classic from a masterful writer and director. I give it two hard drives up. Way the fuck up!
Next, I’ve got a new business idea percolating in my brain. I hope to share the idea with you all soon. Until then, I’m still looking for investors for the last idea. Amazingly there is still a chance to get in on that action before it’s too late. Read on before you make the biggest mistake of your life.
Don’t forget to check out my mad Photoshop skills on the logo, which I did myself! 🙂
Seeking investors: Ground floor opportunity
It be subtle, but that switch is in the 'off' position - heh!
As a self-styled “inventor” I like coming up with fresh new ideas.
I’ve been thinking a lot about so-called “social media” lately and wondering, “Is there a way I can milk that cash cow, too?”
What I need is a way to put my own twist of negativity on sites like Facebook and MySpace.
That’s about when I had the idea for my next big thing. I’m calling it “anti-social media.” (Alas, a Google search reveals I’m not the first to dream up this particular phrase. It’s damn hard to be completely original these days.)
My very own spin, however, is to take that phrase and loosely apply it to the social networking phenomenon. My concept is a web site called NothingShare.com. I’ve already made the logo for the site, too.
The premise for the service is simple. Just like social sites, people will sign up and create their online personas. The rub is that they’ll never be seen. Ever.
I like the elegant simplicity of that. There will be no friends. All invitation requests will automatically be handled (and rejected) by the service. An “accept” button will not exist.
Backgrounds? Only one will be offered, in black, of course.
There will be at least one online game. Perhaps something like iQuicksand. “You’ve just sunk three more inches. Your request for rope has been answered by 0 friends.” Yeah, that sounds like good clean fun to me!
The primary function of the service will be something I’m calling “profile masturbation.” Visit the site, log in, and tweak your profile to your heart’s content. Upload your “avatar” image. Quippishly enter your favorite quotes. List all of your favorite TV shows, types of music, iTunes playlists, and books you’ve read recently. Come up with pithy and clever snippets that prove how fucking witty you are. If you’re having fun, that’s great! You’re the only one on the planet who will ever have the chance to enjoy it.
What is needed now is investment capital. If you love the concept as much as me, it’s time to open your hearts (along with your wallets) and get me da money. It’s scrilla time. Operators are standing by. (Unfortunately, just like friend invites, their phones can’t accept incoming calls.)
Start-Up Costs Estimate Sheet – Total Needed: $2,507,595
Domain name: $10
Design: $25
Web Hosting: $60
Licensing fees for Taco Bell’s “Black Taco” to be company mascot: $7,500
CEO Bonus: $2.5 million
In exchange for your generous donations I’m offering private stock certificates in equal amounts. I’m calling these “Nothing Shares.” And they are literally priceless, if you know what I mean.
I can’t wait to show you my NothingShare.com profile (or not). This is gonna be epic!
Shouts from the Abyss 
Recent Comments