Social Media Overload

I think it was Facebook. At least, that seems to be the best answer. I don't know how it started and frankly I blame women, my own lack of self-control, and Reno. Surely, Garth gets a shout-out as well as it was our contest and his eventual cheating that started my journey down the rabbit hole. Lets not get ahead of ourselves and establish this as a bad thing, but Facebook has not been kind to me or the world in general. It is at best, a time parasite; at worst, a cesspool of exasperation, misdirection, fraud, and death.

I joined Facebook back in Rolla; I assume the year was 2006 but time runs together when you are trapped in a continuum of liquor and melancholic absolution. The purpose was to contest who could get as many friends on Facebook without searching and adding people, me or Garth. No one knows who won because I assume we both began cheating at some point. Although, I'm not really the best at being creepy,* so my cheating was more by gaming the system and making myself as "Internet loud" as possible. This entails saying outrageous things to spark interest and just rapidly expanding your presence through an over-saturation of comments.** The problem was that I was enthralled with the ridiculous things I could permanently impose upon the world.***

*Except for the van, continual advances at platonic friends, and possibly my belly button
**This tactic is continued to this day with slightly more subtlety. See slanted rants about Republicans and God.
***Because Facebook would never change its format

My digital imprint traveled the world. I went to a back-hair forest. Hooked up on the Berlin Wall to Hasselhoff's singing. Visited the pedestal upon which Hook put the pussy. I found in a ridiculous amount of fake classes with people, and some who take the world seriously were also in real ones. Despite my vaguely boring and completely heterosexual lifestyle, I had dozens of Facebook hookups, including one with the aforementioned Garth, where it was alright but he was not the Tiger.* I had a toy to play with, another stage from which to perform, which I suppose despite my inclinations as a younger man was always something I liked.

*The Tiger remains to this day way more awesome than Garth and I. I cannot use his real name for fear that saying it will result in a sudden execution.

Then, I learned the truth; not many felt this way. They wanted to meet their high school friends (again), make hyperbolic statements, inflict pain, and in some cases vent sadness. Others just wanted me to farm with them. It was pretty fucking weird.* Well, it still is, but now it gives me other things. I import this shitty prose from over here. I post random ass music links in an attempt to stop the Bieberization of the young kids and hopefully remind the older folk that Nickelback still blows. I talk to some friends to help them get through the doldrums of life. I still haven't figured out how to use it as an effective stalking tool.***

*So I joined Myspace.**
**It is a social networking site. Yes, others existed before Facebook. Yes, it still exists. Yes, I still know my password, which for some reason is the safest password I have on the Internet.
***But I know some ladies who have.

Yesterday, I joined Google Plus for God knows what reason. Actually, I'm pretty sure I was already on Google Plus, which is creepier than me joining it.* Today, I joined Twitter. That one was more logical. Twitter is built like my mind; it is an amalgam of worthless crap, unfounded rumors, vulgarity, and sometimes inspiration. Facebook, obviously discouraged by my flirtation with other services, decided to revamp their site entirely once again. Now, it is like Google Plus, except you have no idea where anything is and you have hundreds of friends who you once again have to prioritize like cliques in high school.

*All hail, Skynet by Google.

Then, as I prioritize who I care to hear from and who I don't in a cold and calculated way, I realize something. It's not Facebook or Twitter or that Space that belongs to somebody or Our Overlord's Site for monitoring human behavior for the eventual war to come. It's human nature. When I sit at a bar loaded with my friends, I pick the ones who need me and often ignore the others. They don't understand, but it's cold and I have to live with that.  I comment on the people's walls that aren't necessarily my closest friends but the one's who seem to need it. They might not care, but you have to live with that. We spread rumors, lecture on religion, and talk up our self-esteem because we are frail and needy. The only difference is when you say it to everyone, it feels like someone is listening. So, in my always frail mental state, I now have four distinct points from which I can yell and hear the echoes. Sure as hell beats that cabin I bought in Montana and all of those pamphlets I mailed before this digital revolting revolution to kill the time.

So here's my twitter feed, please abuse it and post hateful things. No, seriously I'm running out of things to rant about. God knows with the stability of the Big XII, the Republicans dicktripping (or what Bachmann's equivalent is), Palestine moving towards legitimate representation, Rhett Miller coming to town, some cooking baddassery of mine, death penalties being handed out like hotcakes, and religion never getting boring. Who am I kidding? I got tons of stuff to write about, but first I need to stare blankly at Facebook wondering why she won't love me.* Wait, that's retarded. Also, a post on claiming the word retard back because it is vague and useful when referring to people of extreme stupidity who do not have a medical condition. Really, I've got tons to say.........WHY AREN'T YOU LISTENING?

*I would never do this. I am a proactive man. I would send her a sexy private message. Or stalk with intent.**
**Also, through intense stalking I have found that my suicidal readership has gone on living, which is a big kudos to the power of psychiatry and my suggestions of alcoholism and God. Either or both works fine.

I'M LISTENING, JOE! PLEASE POST YOUR CURRENT LOCATION.

Shit, we're all gonna die.