Targets on Facebook For Post-Election Anger

Things seem to be going really well for him! That’s nice! It must easy to move on for him, a person who has the emotional capacity of a cactus. A person who can just waltz into the apartment he shares with his devoted girlfriend and claim things aren’t “cool, or whatever” and then be in a new relationship three weeks later with a girl who looks exactly like the girl he JUST abandoned. COOL!

I put on a sweater, a hoodie, a coat, a scarf, gloves, snow boots, a hat, I pack my office shoes, and lug all that to my car. Then, I try to de-ice the windsheild with a cheap plastic scraper that BREAKS!, a peice flying too close to my frozen eyeballs, thus forcing me to use an upside down plastic cup from Taco Bell. When I finally get in my car, I wait TWENTY MINUTES for things to heat up. In .02 seconds, I’m suddenly too hot, so I struggle to take off the bulkiest items ever worn by a person in the smallest car ever made. I slam my elbow into the driver’s side window so many times, I give myself what I can only describe as a “bone bruise.”

Every time I blink, I open my eyes to the social networking cluster fuck that is another Facebook redesign. It’s getting to the point that I don’t even know HOW to post my outrage, cause I can’t find the field to type my angry letters. Does the “ENTER” button even work? Up is down! Left is right! Facebook is New Facebook!

How do you see a line of people, tired and uncaffinated, in line at Starbucks and then just walk up to the register? Is there a disease where people can see everything EXCEPT for other people? Like that show “Alien Nation” (sort of). I won’t say anything to your face at this moment. It’s faster to just let you do whatever you want, without me involving my famous knuckle sandwich, but as soon as I get to my office, I am telling Facebook what a dick you are! Accompanied with the photo I secretly took of you looking like a 100% dickhole. DICK!

AM I MADE OF THOUSAND DOLLAR BILLS, GROCERY STORE? For once, I would like to leave you without feeling like my bank account has not been gang raped. I want you to know, I am taking photos of all your overpriced cereals, complete with my middle finger front and center, and I’m making THAT my Facebook cover. We’ll see who is laughing then!

Maybe I didn’t sleep. Maybe it’s the smoking. Maybe it’s the being single. Maybe it’s all three. Whatever the reason, I am in a bad mood and so, do me a favor, ok? Don’t say good morning to me, don’t ask me how I am, and don’t try and eat lunch with me, k? The only interactions I want to have today with other humans is on Facebook, in the comments section of my status “Bad Mood City, Population Me” status update.

Just kidding! Puppies in baskets are THE ONLY thing I won’t complain about on Facebook. The only thing. Watch your back, newborn babies, I don’t have any tolerance for your adorable faces.

Look at all the fun Instagram photos people are posting on Facebook – friends eating tacos and dancing and looking at outdoor fires! Must be nice to be out having fun and not stuck in an apartment without any chips and salsa and fresh out of new episodes of Showtime’s “Gigolos.” I really have no other option but to neutralize this newsfeed party festival with real-time updates of how absolutely trapped I feel in this prision of my own design.

It’s a shame all my friends are the worst, hence the SUPER LOW turnout for my 30th birthday pirate themed costume party. Not sure what I needed to do to get these jerks off their butts on what WAS one of the most important birthdays of MY LIFE! They’ll certainly regret flaking when they see my passive agressive post on Facebook thanking everyone who DID come and reminding the poeple who DIDN’T come that they are on friend probation. I’m glad the election is over, because this matter is worth dragging out on Facebook!