Thursday, June 30, 2016

Um...Let's Just Defriend


I remember in the good old days, you could just ignore someone's phone calls, knocks at the door and letters—and the sad fucks would eventually just go away. Not now. Nossir. Not with the internets and the books of faces and such. Now every god. damned. shitheel you ever tried to ditch will FIND YOU.

Yes, minding the constantly changing privacy switches on fb is like Scotty running around to save the fucking warp cores or something. So a loser gets through. Then a bitter ex girlfriend. Then Satan. Yes, the road to hell is paved with failed relationships.

What's weird is that these piles of dead wood want to somehow reconcile; blow their fetid breath on the embers of the dead relationship and rekindle the fucking corpse through social media. How very social of the sad fucks. Look, fucks: I'm generally a really nice guy. That's why I stopped all communications with you. If I were an asshole, I would have just said GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE, LOSER. But I hate confrontations, so instead I just left you wondering if I was dead or joined the Jihad (Not that anyone could possibly think the Jihad would have me).

Maybe you joined a religious cult and I am number 6 on your 12 steps. Don't care. Maybe you just missed me, wanted to re-establish contact with me, flatter me at first, then slowly degrade into tirades of Just How Fucked Up I Really Am. End result: me reminding you of What a Sad Loser You Are, then you defriending me.

Then there are the ones who are your actual friends in real life, the ones you add to your friend list because you think that somehow the drunk things you both discuss in real life will somehow translate into cyberlife. NOT. This is probably what pisses me the most. If we are BMFs (brick-and-mortar friends) and not just cyberbesties, then why in the FUCK would you be offended by me making a smartass comment on your wall at midnight? Drunk! It's the exact same thing I said to you when we were last drinking. Oh, I get it. Now it's in PRINT. In the fucking CLOUD or something. So now it's PERSONAL.

I used the damn smiley winks in my asinine comments. Every damn time.  And they still defriended me. Fuckers. So, this begs the question: are we still friends in real life? Can we exchange friendly-smiley-wink-drunken-insults over actual beers? One such loser actually called me on the phone and said he was so offended by my comment that not only did he defriend me, he had to call me to chew me out. After spewing several of my nice guy apologies (repeatedly), I wondered what this fuck's real problem was. 'OTHER PEOPLE CAN READ THAT SHIT!' he yelled. Um, yeah. So hit delete. Loser. What. You slept all day? Your 12 friends read it and now it can't be UNREAD? Damn. Sucks to be you. Ok. Defriend me. I deserve it. But I'm not gonna hit the like button on your funeral announcement. Wait. Maybe I will.

Sometimes it's easier to end a relationship with a click. That can have its appeal. But I suppose it's tougher if you were actually friends before the cyberspace thang. The good ole daze when you could insult each other, be pissed for a while, then forgive, forget, drink, forget.

Maybe I'm an asshole. I could just think I'm a nice guy. I'm sure that assholes don't wake up in the morning singing that Denis Leary song. They make up shit about what nice guys they are. But if I'm not already an asshole, maybe I need to be an asshole. Like the dude in Silicon Valley said: "Dude, you need to be an asshole. If not, there will be a huge asshole vaccum, and all these other assholes will be sucked in."

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