Here at
Heartfelt Apologies and Other Bullshit, we love us some facebox.
Yawn not, gentle reader; toss not aside your iPlop, your ePad, or other portable Webbernet mochean*. For you know not the DEPTH of our devotion to faceboxes! You have never
felt the all-encompassing
joy that can be yours when you
give of your best to the MASTER! YOU CANNOT KNOW THIS INNER PEACE--
For YOU have not given your all to GAWD!
I haven't either, really. I have given my all (or rather, Mary's, since I remain a no-good turf-cutting half-shant jackeen narrowback with no more right to live on God's clean Earth than a pus-ferret) to our cable company. They, in turn, give me Intranebs, which come into the house through a special pipe. This pipe, in turn, is connected to the eWeb Reservoir**. (I'm pretty sure that there's an elaborate array of pulleys and tubes involved at some point.) Thanks to all these devices and machinations, I am able to keep in touch with my fellow human beings and all those other creatures that use the Internetty, like animals who have been taught to type, the cannibal hill-tribes of my homeland, and Teabaggers.
Why have we done this rash thing, you ask? Why have we chosen to keep in touch with the rest of the world only through "social networking Intersites" and "the Twatter"? Why, in the name of all that's holy, would we even CONSIDER giving up our beloved smartphones? WHAT THE FUCK, IN FACT, IS WRONG WITH US?!?!!
Well, the short answer is, we're poor as shit and something had to give.
The DVR was the first to go, and all the fun channels with it. Then it was the smartphones; $300/month is more than any other single bill (except the house payment and groceries--and some
utter goddamn extortionist horseshit problems we've had with one of our utilities deciding to stick us with massive surcharges during peak consumption months). The one thing we could not, and will not, cut, is the Nettywebs.
Teh Webberhighway means more to me than ever before. When you ain't got a phone and you ain't got much gas to get around, facebox and bloggin' and all that mess become vital to your sanity. If I need to get ahold of someone, I use facebox or the i-mail. (If I need to
wrech to git aholt of someone, I still do that the old-fashioned way, with my fists.) If I'm depressed--bloggery. If I'm amused--bloggery. If I'm bored, well, facebox again, or Panterest. (Put up pics of your favorite pants! It's Panterest!)
In fact, I keep facebox open pretty much all day, whether I'm using it or not. This way, Mary can reach me if she needs anything, or if she just wants to chat. (I don't hover by the computer all the time, though; I have house-husband duties to attend to, like unblocking THE POOPY CHAIR. So if you try to message me and I don't respond in a timely fashion, don't be offended. I'm probably off using
Doktor WC Kolben or emptying
THE CRAP-YURT.)
Hairy things commit unspeakable acts inside this yurt.
Since I do spend rather a lot of time on the facebox, I find myself noticing things that probably would make very little impact if I lived a more "normal" modern life. And, being my usual bitchy self, I can't NOT comment on them.
1.
ENOUGH WITH THE "I'm Not Cussin'" BULLSHIT. What the fuck is wrong with these people? "ROFLMBO" is
not a recognized Information Superwebnet acronym. The phrase you want is "
Rolling
On
Floor
Laughing
My
ASS
Off". If your particular brand of idol-worshiping forbids "bad words", or you're so determined to prove that you're a perfect parent that you try to make complete strangers believe that you say "shucks" when you stub your toe in the dark, may I suggest to you that you simply use "ROFL" instead? "ROFLMBO" is shameless self-promotion. It proclaims to the world "I
could have said
a cuss...maybe even
the a-word...but I
didn't, because I'm
moral like that." Thanks, there, we're all really impressed by your example. In fact, I was
SO moved by your actions that I shall, henceforth, leave off saying
cusses forever, in the hopes that one day I might be just as
elevated as you are. Hey, can we start a local branch of the
No Cussing Club? There's nothing I'd like better than to hang out with other like-minded, God-fearin' folks who are just appalled at all the profanity in the modern world. They didn't used to have that profanity in my Grandma's day, you know, not a bit of it!
My entire ass. Yes, I said ass, not "butt"! THE HORROR! You fucking pusillanimous dolt, you craven shit-goblin, you utter and complete taint! You are henceforth forbidden the use of Internettish slang until you can get the fuck over yourself. See you never.
2. SHARED FACEBOX ACCOUNTS. Oh, just fucking shoot me. Look, I have been married to the same wonderful woman for the last ten years. We dated for three years before that, and have been inseparable since at least late 1997. We continually surprise one another with new things to talk about after all this time, and new ways of looking at the world and all the bad-ass (sorry, "bad-butt") things in it. In fact, you could describe our relationship as one long conversation that started one day on a couch (oddly enough, said sofa was in an alley just off Chestnut Street). That conversation has never ended, and it will not end until one or the other of us dies. I love her more than anyone in the world except my son.
The thought of sharing a facebox account with one another makes us both want to puke.
This has nothing to do with her, or me, or our relationship. It doesn't even have anything to do with our friends (most of our closest friends are shared friends). For some reason, the whole idea just rubs us the wrong way. Just because you're married, or in love, or in lust--whatever--it doesn't mean that you become a colony organism. Sure, I've been part of "Rob & Mary" for a third of my life, but we have our own individual heads, and they each have their own semi-independent brains inside! (Well, Mary's does. I have a primitive little knot at the top of my spine.)
What, exactly, is the motivation for creating one of these "Dipshit&Ratfucker McAsscrack" accounts? Is it one of those "total honesty" things? You think that if you share a password that means your significant other won't use the facebox for clandestine hookups? Are you afraid that all the skanks you fucked in middle school are going to see that picture of you in Gatlinburg, the one where you've got on your fanny pack and your new Crocs, and they're gonna swoon, and start sending you indecent messages just because they failed to see that your status is listed as "married" on your info page? Is it something the megachurch recommended? Are you just lazy as shit? What the fuck?!
3. FARTVILLE. I have previously expressed my opinion on this subject. For those of you who might have missed this rant, please send the Supermation Infohighweb version of an SASE to my iMail, and I will forward you a copy.
Tune in next time for more e-Fun, CompuLaffs, and other stuff that's just plain InterNUTTY!
*Mochean: if you don't know what this is, you don't listen to enough Johnny Cash. I recommend "Delia's Gone" as an excellent point of reference.
**eWeb Reservoir: the huge pool of data that lies in the lowest caverns of your cable company's underground bunker, under very heavy guard. This pool's composition is a CORPORATE SECRET, but it is believed to be a lattice-work of completely pointless status updates hopelessly entangled with impenetrable nests of Korean panty-porn sites.
