You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy
I hate you.
Let me rephrase that.
I despise you! I find you abhorrent! You are yellow matted custard dripping from a dead dog’s eye.
OK. That was cathartic.
I hate you because you lie. I hate you because of your duplicitous, insatiable quest for information, private or otherwise.
I hate you because you didn’t safeguard the simple secrets, beliefs and harmless LIKES of your clients.
I hate you because you have become a money grubbing, publicly traded, behemoth of corporate who cares.
I hate you because whether I like elephants or donkeys or cold Chinese food you thought I could be sold and manipulated and packaged into something with a political bow.
My information, and that of millions of others, was then bought and sold and utilized for purposes real and imagined.
Some say my love of Labs and high top tennis shoes makes me a Bernie Lover.
If I LIKED Remember the Alamo, I must be a Trump man.
LIKE Banana plantations in Honduras and it’s a cinch I’m an Obama Boy.
Hey FACEBOOK. F YOU!!
Just because I burped up a bad tamale and LIKED Pepto Bismal doesn’t mean I’m all in on Pink tummy medicine.
Now my computer is a raging hemorroid of populating ads for antacids.
Is that you FACEBOOK?
Did you weaponize my burped tamale and send that stupid shit my way?
Now I have to hunt for a tiny X purposely hiding somewhere in a moving sea of tiny text to get rid of that stupid ad with the stomach on fire graphic to get back to my taxes.
Hold on a minute IRS. I’ll beat that April 15th deadline, just as soon as FACEBOOK stops trying to sell me another Immodium.
F*** YOU FACEBOOK.
That little LIKE, that little share. It was so harmless from my lap top. Somehow that LIKE floated around the globe like a thermo nuclear explosion of information that someone with a slide rule weaponized and then reportedly used in an informational tidal wave by political espionage agents.
Some say you helped the Donald win the election. Others say Obama was using Cambridge Analytica data while Trump was still hollering your Fired from his private toilet on the set of the Apprentice.
Somehow liking NY Cheese Cake or my sister’s kids camping with the girl scouts is “weaponizable” information.
It’s just Cheese cake you morons.
Obviously the people packaging this bogus BS don’t have a clue as to what they are doing. They are modern day bean counters twisting numbers and data like huxsters on Venice Beach playing a shell game.
I don’t know about you, but my vote for America isn’t easily swayed by a meme with a monkey tossing his own shit against the wall.
So Facebook. To you I say: “F*** OFF!”
I hated you before it was fashionable to hate you.
I feel like the Paul Revere of Hate.
FACEBOOK IS COMING. FACEBOOK IS COMING.
One if land. Two if by sea. 3 if by furtive diabolical means through my iPhone app.
Get your pitchforks and fire Mother F***ers. Facebook is the Frankenstein monster built with dead parts of decaying rotting filth.
I’m simply glad so many people are finally on the HATE FACEBOOK bandwagon.
Just this week 2 of my favorite people posted a sincere note to their Facebook following saying they are decommissioning their FACEBOOK accounts. Bravo!
“Just to let folks know, I will be closing down this site on Wednesday night. I have loved keeping in touch and watching our children grow and learning new things from all of you. Unfortunately, given how the company has chosen to treat our personal data, i just can’t continue to support it. I hope you all with keep in touch.”
My question? What took you all so long.
I stopped posting with any sincerity or regularity years ago.
Why? Because it’s a dark void where cretins and lecherous douche bags often go to troll on those with good intentions.
It’s the place where X significant others stalk you and viewers anonymously post mean spirited words that are so hurtful they bring a tear to your eye.
When a vulgar troll with a fake profile told a pregnant co-worker she looked fat and she cried a tear because her baby bump was visible, well, it was right then that I knew that all my acrimonious spittle directed at the internet was well founded.
HEY FACEBOOK. I’m a few hundred words into this rant. Did you forget that I still F***ing HATE you?
Let’s Divorce! you son of a bitch. Let’s save the money, the high priced attorneys who do nothing but waste time and shit out my money and let’s just wash our hands of each other.
I’ll go back to living life in an analog world, where sunsets are real and the wind in my hair is really the wind, and you can flush yourself into some digitally soiled septic tank of LIKES and SHARES and who gives a GD damn!
I have more respect for toilet paper stuck to my shoe in a roadside truck stop.
You pretend to be the social network that brings the world together.
You are really a den of inequity where denizens of the dark hide and cast stones and accusations without merit.
You have given weak spirited people a platform to hurl horror and stupid without a single thought about how it might affect someone.
Like a tiny butterfly tattoo discreetly placed on a woman’s ankle, you began with good intentions.
But then you festered like a puss filled canchor sore. I watched as that little butterfly became a mile wide tramp stamp, gliding love handle to love handle with dark ugly ass ink that says Ride Long Ride Hard.
Well the ride is over Zuckerboy.
I hate you facebook like the guy who thinks it’s ok to fire up the lawn mower Sunday morning at 6:30 am.
I hate you like I hate the rain the day I get my new haircut and forgot my umbrella.
I hate you like I hate a fast car on a 5 lane littered with logging trucks.
Mark Zuckerberg seems like the kid in college who couldn’t get laid. In high school the football team shoved him into a smelly gym locker and said sniff this wimp.
So the angry little hoodie wearing genius built the biggest social network in the history of history and made everyone his friend.
Suddenly A Holes with AK 47’s in Somalia could like a Lebron posterization in Cleveland.
What was once a cool idea, a weak ass dude’s way of getting chicks, quickly denegrated into incessant pictures of what people are eating at every meal.
A family update from Disney Land has become a way for your X to stalk you under the profile picture of a Ugandan hit man.
Facebook says they’re sorry and they’ll do better.
Apparently that’s suppose to make up for a decade’s worth of LIKING hot dogs, the Cowboys, Budweiser and Texas Strip Clubs.
Apparently all those innocuous LIKES without a moment of thought were saved, savored and weaponized.
My LIKE of gym socks with holes was sold to the highest bidder who then dissected my LIKES like a cardiothorasic surgeon reconnecting common sense.
I LIKED Spicoli on Fast Times at Ridgemont High in 2015 and somehow I changed the course of the 2016 election.
HEY FACEBOOK. F YOU. F YOU. F YOU.
IS THERE A LIKE BUTTON TO HATE FACKEBOOK. IF THERE IS, WEAPONIZE THAT MOTHER F***ERS.
FACEBOOK. YOUR SOCIAL NETWORK HAS GONE OFF THE TRACKS.
You are now a steamy pile of goo on the side of the interstate. What goes up must come down. I love that people are disconnecting from your socially irrelevant platform. I love hearing that your publicly traded fecal matter is losing billions on the stock market. My heart sings with every LIKE that is not LIKED.
So long FACEBOOK, you lying, stealing duplicitous mother F***ers!
And here’s some analog FARMER’S ALMANAC PREDICTIONS FOR YOU OTHER SONS OF BITCHES STEALING FROM MY DIGITAL SOUL.
Hey Twitter. F you too. You are FACEBOOK without a LIKE BUTTON. And Google. I know you have all my passwords and every email I ever sent. You are a confederate of the NSA. I’m watching you just like you’re watching me.
Hey Siri. I wonder why you are listening to me and sharing that information with Alexa in the middle of my REM pattern at night.
You are all satanic, diabolical, digitally intrusive son’s of bitches and I am going to circumcise your existence in a Briss where nobody says Mazel Tov.
There’s something to be said for good old Analog.
You hear me Generation X or Y or Z or whatever you hipsters call yourselves now.
I’m tired of your Dr. Zeuss need to be connected bull shit.
In the immortal words of Clint Eastwood.
“Get off my lawn.”
Now share that!