August 6, 2010

So a while back, I was talking to coworker of mine about the ads that show up on our respective Facebook pages. And how mine just happened to say things like: “Meet Hot Singles” when I was 29, but when I turned 30, it changed to “Meet Single Moms.”

Her Facebook ads changed from “Lose Weight Now” to “Meet Single Dads” when she changed her relationship status to single.

It was pleasant when my ads turned into “Crown Royal Special Offer!” and “Blackberry. Become a Fan!” a while back.

But the other day, mine said “Meet Single Dads.” Hey Now! I might be single, but I don’t think I’ve quite reached that point of desperation yet. I don’t need your suggestions, Facebook!  If it wasn’t for Bejeweled Blitz, I’d totally be done with you.

I Hate Birthdays on Facebook.

January 26, 2010

When you see someone on their birthday, you say “Happy Birthday!” and that’s the appropriate wishing of a happy birthday. In person, you say it when you walk in a door or when you run into them.

But it’s horrible when you’re with someone and run into the person with a birthday, and you’re beaten to the punch.

Other person: Happy birthday!
You: Yeah, happy birthday!

Your birthday wishes seem just bland, obligatory and meaningless, because the other person beat you and devalued them.

Now, on Facebook, you’re ALWAYS giving devalued birthday wishes.

Because even though you had the independant thought to wish them a happy birthday, someone probably beat you to the punch and you look like you’re just adding “oh yeah, happy birthday, too.”

Unless you are the very first, but you gotta wish them a happy birthday the night before, like right before midnight. But that’s like saying “Hey, I’m going to get this out of the way now, because your birthday is tomorrow, but that’s inconvenient for me.”

Of course, nothing is worse than when people write “Thanks for all the birthday wishes” on their facebook at like 11 am., and you haven’t yet wished them a happy birthday. It makes you look like a jackass who didn’t remember if you reply to THAT with “Happy Birthday!”

What kind of attention whore are you that you’d do that at 11 a.m.? 11 P.M. is perfectly fine, but not before the night is up. Wait until the next day to thank people.

Although, I can’t complain about Facebook birthday’s too much, since Facebook is really the only reason I remember most people’s birthdays to begin with.

The Death of Facebook.

July 28, 2009

Ladies and gentlemen, the Facebook fad is dead.
Saturday was a day that will go down in history as the day when McDonalds in the mid-1980s first used comercials with cheesy raps and breakdancing. Or in the late 80s, when adults began wearing Zubaz pants. Or in the early 90s when Macy’s began selling flannel shirts to capitalize on the grunge era.

The end of an era. The shark has been jumped. What I’m trying to say, is “Welcome to Facebook, Mom!”

My mom, age 59, has asked to add me as a friend on Facebook. After adjusting my profile settings to block her from seeing most the content, I added her. And my aunt is on it, too. It’s now time to find the next thing (More of you should be on Twitter. Although, Twitter is more of a marketing/writer’s tool than a social networking site).

Facebook has it’s got it’s pros: I found out my “kid brother” (really next door neighbor growing up) and his wife were expecting a child. I copied the sonogram she posted and emailed it to my mom. Then saw baby pictures a day after Jackson was born (and sent THEM to my mom). But apparently, she learned their source. And two weeks later, (about 10 days after my “kid brother”‘s mom joined Facebook and added me), my mom decided to get on board.

My brother is also on Facebook now. And now I’m getting “people you may know” from all kinds of blasts from the past.

It’s a scary thing now that my mom has ruined the internet. As I explained that on Facebook with the bold copy that leads this post, my mom replied:

MOM: If you have something on here your mother shouldn’t see, Shame on you!

ME: What if I want to talk about your Christmas gift with [my brother]? Or invite him over over to do crystal meth? Or call Him a shithead? Way to ruin the internet, Mom

MOM: I don’t have to worry about you discussing Christmas gifts until, say, December 23 or 24th. I hope you won’t be doing the other two either.

I suppose I should have censored myself a long time ago. Or slowly uncensored myself to mom earlier so she could deal with it. Or I could just leave Facebook completely.

Adventures in Social Networking

June 17, 2009

Interesting scene from Thursday night.  I’m in Atlanta with JO, and I had to write a press release sometime that evening, so I brought the laptop with me to a bar. We eat, I write the release, put the laptop away and have a Guiness… and then JO discovers that comedian Greg Proops is in the bar. JO tweets this fact, but misspells Proops, and then the people sitting next to us ask him for a picture.

JO takes the picture so they can all get in, and then looks up how to spell Proops on my laptop by pulling up HIS Twitter page with him standing right there.

At this point, the kid who took the picture has already uploaded it to his Twitter and says “hey, wanna see it?” JO re-tweets it, becomes a follower of this dude, and then the picture is forwarded on to Proops’ Twitter.

At which time, I believe he used the Twitter tweet to his phone to get away from other people who are infatuated with D-List celebrities.

This is way more intense (and stupid) than my Twitter habits. I just use it to provide one-liners on the top right of this page, and to tell people in a city that I’m there, and they should offer me places to stay if my flight is cancelled.

Using Twitter to say “look! I met some relatively insignificant person!” is dumb. Unlike, say, using facebook to send my mom pitures of my (brother-like) friend’s wife’s ultrasound.

The 25 Things Note

February 8, 2009

Ok, people keep asking for it, here it is:

1. I don’t “care” when people I don’t know die, but I get misty-eyed at things like walk-ons score on senior day, a web-designer dresses for an NHL game, or Indira Kaljo’s performance Sunday.

2. I’m excited for Valentine’s Day this year. Not because of love, but because I can’t wait to use the phrase “A parliment of Owls” in my recap at Rice next Saturday. It will be grammatically correct usage of a collective noun.

3. People roll their eyes and call me crazy when I rant and rave about college RPIs. But I must know what I’m talking about, because the only time someone’s ever listened to me and helped me schedule, the team finished #9 in the country in RPI (I take no credit for their wins and losses; only their SOS rating).

4. I need to go grocery shopping. Badly. As in, I haven’t been to a grocery store for a cart full of food since I got back from evacuating for Gustav. Seriously. I’ve had plenty of baskets, but no cart.

5. I have a hyper-active imagination. You knew this.

6. I refuse to buy presents for people who aren’t relatives unless I’m trying to make out with that person. Or am extremely guilted into it by someone getting me presents for a few years in a row.

7. I have a friend with the same last initial, same occupation and same birthday of April 4.

8. I don’t sing in the shower. My car is another story.

9. I love the sound that spring style door stopper makes when you step on it.

10. I like my coffee like I like my women: Hot, Strong, and Slightly Bitter.

11. My amp goes to 11.

12. I need closure. I can’t handle having unresolved things that I have to wait for.

13. As most of you know, I used to watch Felicity, and I don’t feel like less of a man for it.

14. I have to sit facing the door. I still expect Dave Sliker and a water gun to come bursting through that door any second now.

15. I think that the Proust Questionnaire would be a much better facebook trend, and will switch to it now:

16. My favorite word is “pimp-slap”

17. My least favorite word is either “no,” “pimple” or “blog”

18. What turns me on creatively is caffeine; Emotionally is someone being wrong; Spiritually is praising the Lord through song.

19. What turns me off creatively is mornings; Emotionally is clinginess; Spiritually is when people who call themselves by the same name I do (Christian) do things that reflect poorly on Christ and Christians

20. I love the sound that spring style door stopper makes when you step on it.

21. I hate the sound of my neighbors arguing when I’m trying to sleep.

22. My favorite curse word begins with an F.

23. Other than my own profession, I’d like to be a guy in an action movie who says “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!” then gets beaten/killed by the movie’s hero (like Jack Bauer). Or I just want to be Jack Bauer.

24. A profession I wouldn’t want to try is anything involving a cubicle.

25. If Heaven exists, when I arrive at the Pearly Gates, I would like to hear God “Come in, my good and faithful servant.”

A Whopper Sacrifice Responds

February 3, 2009

Update: Link Works Now (Unless you’re a Mac user and don’t have Windows Media Player)

As you may remember, a few weeks back, I participated in the Whopper Sacrifice, a Burger King promotion in which I sacrificed my facebook friendships with 10 people in exchange for a free Whopper.

Today, I was confronted by Marisa, who was one of those 10 former Facebook friends:

A whopper sacrifice responds (video*)

Farewell, My Friends

January 8, 2009

No, not closing down this site. I mean to the 10 people I just sacrificed my Facebook friendships with to score a free Whopper from Burger King. That is some quality marketing right there:

Speaking of Burger King, once, I actually had this conversation with a BK drive thru employee (DTE)

actual conversation between me — leaving work early because I think I might have strep throat — and a drive thru employee:

Me: Yeah, can I get a large chocolate shake…
DTE: your total is 2.29, please pull around
Me: Wait, unless there is one that is bigger than the large.
DTE: Do you want a King Size, then?
Me: Absolutely, just give me the biggest one you have.
DTE: actually, the Super King Size is bigger.
Me: Super King size?
DTE: yeah
Me: So the King isn’t really the King, is he?
DTE: I guess you could say that, sir.
Me: Would that make him a Prince?
DTE: I guess. At least he’s bigger than the medium.
Me: And the medium isn’t the medium either, if you have five sizes.
DTE: The medium is the medium.
Me: How can the medium be the medium if it’s the second biggest of five sizes?
DTE: We have a medium, sir. It’s one of our four sizes of shakes.
Me: Four?
DTE: Yes, sir. Medium, Large, King Size and Super King Size
Me: Do you even know what the word medium means? It means between something smaller and something large.
DTE: Well, if we put the medium between the large and the king size, it would confuse a lot of people.
Me: Yeah, why don’t you just call the medium a small?
DTE: It’s not so small, sir. It’s actually medium-sized.
Me: But it’s the smallest.
DTE: This is true, but the large isn’t the largest.
Me: And the king really isn’t the king.
DTE: Yes, The Super King is one bigger, sir.
Me: Does he go to 11?