10 Situations – Where It’s Acceptable to Send your Honey Ooey-Gooey Valentine’s Wishes on Facebook

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*You’ve fallen and you can’t get up

*He or she is greater than 50 miles away

*You’re being held captive by Bigfoots in the Rocky Mountains where they just so happen to have a kick-ass wifi signal

*You’re suspicious that they’re engaging in extracurriculars and you need to urinate on the Internet to mark your territory

*A stealth bomber crashed through your living room and the love of your life is on the other side of the wreckage

*You’ve been deployed to Mars

*Every time you post on Facebook a Kit Kat bar and a $100 bill pops out of your laptop

*You have a comfy spot in front of the fireplace and you don’t feel like walking ALL the way down to the man cave.

*Christian Grey has you tethered to a telephone pole and you’re starting to feel guilty… or you’re freezing and you need him to bring you a jacket

*You’re a hopeless romantic who loves their partner and is compelled to SHOUT it from the rooftops (or in stores)… so you don’t puke unicorn glitter on yourself

“I’m singing… I’m in a store and I’m siiiiiiiiiiinging!!!!!

 

❤️ Many of my friends are in fact engaging in this bizarre ritual and for the record, I love those people dearly, but nonetheless they’re all DORKASAURUSES. ❤️

 

Potential Resolutions for my Facebook Friends… Because I Love You, Man

 

*Limit the selfies. If you look exactly the same as your last selfie (yesterday) with the exception of hair #eleventy-six-hundred being moved 2cm to the left, please restrain yourself. You’re the only one who enjoys seeing your new-selfie-of-the-day, so why not just text it to yourself or use it as your personal screen saver or wallpaper. Don’t drag the rest of us into your quest to find your missing self esteem. If you need Facebook LIKES to feel good about yourself, it’s plain and simple… you’re fucked. And, I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you.

*Stop posting horrible shit that gives people like me nightmares. This includes but is not limited to photos of torture, animal cruelty, sensationalized fatalities, and accidents. I don’t want to see footage of people getting eaten by Amazon spiders or bursting into flames. This stuff cannot be unseen. Cut that shit out or I will pull the lever to my trap door and drop your sorry ass into the Land of Un-freaking-friended. So, THINK before you press share. Is this REALLY something you want to share with the class or is it possible that you’re just a fucked up deviant psycho who’s in a class (that should be a padded room) all by yourself?

*Post more dog and cat photos. Pets are considerably more like-able than their human counterparts. Pets don’t suck – at least not on purpose. If they suck, it’s 100% likely that it’s their humans fault anyway. Pet photos make me extremely HAPPY.

*Ditto for baby photos. I require frequent baby fixes. Mini-humans make me sqeeeeeeal with DELIGHT. Babies are perfect humans because they act predominantly on instincts and don’t know how to be selfish assholes yet. Babies are the most genuinely authentic beings on the planet. Babies rock.

I’m going to close with the above four potential resolutions, because I believe in quality over quantity. Plus, the first one is bound to result in an entirely new charter of Gina haters.

It’s all good though, because somebody has to say the important things that need to be said.

Happy New Year!!!

I look forward to hoards of photos of your baby kittens who aren’t tortured, dead or on fire and don’t contain twenty-hundred selfies of you posing in the mirror where you forgot to crop the tacky phone out of the photo.

Cheers!

Xoxo

I Met a Girl with Anorexia and she Stole my Heart

I met a girl with Anorexia Nervosa and she stole my heart.

A definite benefit to working in a service profession like health care is the abundance of life-learning opportunities that present themselves regularly.

I’m specifically referring to the “been there, done that” phenomena, where wisdom is gained as a result of a persons constant, often unintentional, but necessary involvement in the lives and struggles of others.

Social workers, health care professionals, teachers and law enforcement officers are a few vocations profoundly effected by this phenomena… for better or for worse.

We’re presented with the sometimes vivid and painful reality that unconsciously prompts us to assign a human face to many situations and events.

Gifted a diverse perspective that can’t be learned, as it’s the exclusive byproduct of experience.

We’re humbled.

Constantly reminded not to take anything for granted.

I honestly covet the reality of it all.

Life is predictably unpredictable.

So, no I’m absolutely not a person who fusses over superficial things like hair, make-up and nails or desires to carry the latest designer purse, and it’s not because I’m lazy, it’s because I don’t think it matters a lick in the big scheme of things.

It’s incredibly unimportant to me, thanks to my own menagerie of past experiences.

I will never swim or even wade in the particular shallow puddle of superficial vanity.

As long as I can remember, I’ve always been disconcerted by the thought of women manipulating their appearances in the quest to attain a certain holy grail body image.

The most obvious example is predictably– elective breast augmentation– done exclusively for vanities sake.

I find it superficial and flippant as a result of having associated with countless victims of breast cancer.  Women who’ve willfully surrendered their bodily parts as a means of survival.

Women filled with gratitude to have been given a second lease on LIVING.

So yes, I’m inherently guilty of forming  judgmental comparisons when it comes to the frivolous primping of ones outer shell.

Everything is relative, unto itself and as to where it happens to fall in the big scheme of things.

My biggest objection to the glorification of the perfect physical image is the simple fact that beauty is not an earned trait, it’s merely the result of the incredibly random genetic lottery.

Case in point- pretty people are born with an advantage… and that sucks.

It’s unacceptable that our culture continues to worship a random variable that has the indisputable power to make or break the lives of so many beautiful spirits.

The $64,000 question is— what role do YOU play in all this?

Have you ever really taken a moment to analyze your own thoughts and actions?

Actions absolutely speak louder than words.

When you take part in certain activities or portray a certain attitude, you condone the behavior, thus encouraging the end result…  to a certain degree.

I’m not pointing a finger at the newest dieting or exercise craze, it’s more about the expedited evolution of plastic surgery, tanning, hair removal, teeth whitening, hair extensions, the explosion of the day spa concept and the mere notion that some women indulge in weekly mani’s, pedi’s and facials as if they’re necessary medical treatments.

What was once considered to be an extravagance is slowly edging toward what we now consider to be the norm.

In fact, it’s not at all unusual for professionally manicured and polished fingers to reach out and hand you say, their public assistance card.

I said it. No disrespect intended.

And, I’m not saying that women of lower incomes do not deserve these things. My point is that when a certain standard of living becomes commonplace, people make sacrifices to acquire what society deems the norm.

I’m a nurse who keeps her fingernails trimmed-right-down-to-the-nubs and never ever wears polish. My hands may not be a pretty sight, but my soul swells with pride over the regular accomplishments realized by these extensions of myself.

For me it’s not about the visual image at all. I simply feel satiated because of who I am.

And, no it’s not my intention to shame, nor am I suggesting that you stop having your nails did.

It’s not the act as much as it is the shallow attitude carried and spread by some people, even if it is unknowingly.

**

Recently, I had a personal encounter with two vaguely familiar dirty-rotten-lying-thieves by the name of Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia.

Sure, I’ve known about them for pretty much ever, but I didn’t really know about them on such a personal level: a level bearing an innocent face and sweet fragile personality.

The common denominator in both of these debilitating and potentially life-threatening illnesses is the constant assault to a persons self esteem— by overwhelming societal influence.

Society sets the bar for what’s normal, expected and rewarded, so when the end-result is unrealistic and often unattainable, problems naturally ensue and people are broken.

Oftentimes destroyed.

The sometimes subliminal or hidden messages which promote the glorified Barbie image are everywhere and they’re inescapable.

As long as society continues to covet and idolize physical beauty, the decorative physical shell which contains us, will forever and always define us.

How we act and respond to any situation determines whether we’re contributing-  hence fueling the Barbie charade.

The purpose of this post is to prompt you to do a self examination of not only your own values and ideals, but more importantly… your actions.

Most of us are guilty, at least to a certain degree.

For example, gentlemen, actions like lifting an eyebrow, winking, casting an approving look, nod, whistling, or making a flirty comment or gesture to the opposite sex is absolutely an infraction.

You’re guilty.

These seemingly harmless playful messages are etched in (especially girl) children’s brains from the day they start interpreting social cues.

A (girl) child’s self-worth is partially formed as a result of societal osmosis.

Your actions are subconsciously being recorded and measured by your daughter and by society every. single. day.

Every instance cancels out whatever positive message you may have intended to portray.

**I know a young girl who claimed that her friends and/or siblings were consistently given compliments and positive attention regarding their appearance, where she was given very few to none. In turn, she was made to perpetually feel like the ugly step sister or homely friend. When it was brought to my attention, I evaluated the behavior, and sure enough, she was dead on. Although, unintentional it happened and unfortunately this young lady was left to reap the consequences of well-intended compliments meant for everyone-who-wasn’t-her.

Not only does exclusion hurt, it chips away at the very fragile foundation of our self worth, sometimes causing profound irreversible damage.

On the same token, a dad can jump through fiery hoops to convince his plus-size teen that she’s beautiful, loved and valued, but his efforts are null and void the instant his eyes widen at the sight of a shapely lady in the tight sweater or when he likes a sexy photo or makes a flirty comment to someone on Facebook or Instagram.

Your girls, nieces and granddaughters are absolutely paying attention to everything you do.

Every single tidbit of external data flowing into a persons consciousness is measured, ultimately resulting in the final appraisal of their own self worth.

The Wonder Women image below is AWESOME, sensitive and realistic.

While a woman may whole-heartedly intend to support this positive image, she nullifies her intention the moment she takes a selfie in a bikini or slinky evening dress and flaunts it on social media in a blatant quest for likes.

Sure, most people have had their event photos inadvertently turn up on social media sites. It’s a product of the times…. our every move is being recorded.

The differentiating factor is your own deliberate calculation to sell portray yourself as a super-model mom, sex goddess or the new menopausal Miss America

Don’t let your own self-esteem issues victimize the next generation.

 

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Young fragile egos thrive on attention, so it’s easy to understand how attaining the coveted look can be so consuming and self-destructive.

Beauty is the key to attention, love, popularity, respect, overall success and happiness… because society continues to inadvertently say so.

What we do and how we act absolutely affects the next generation.

So…. Middle-aged Mommy’s,

We all appreciate and respect the overwhelming pride you feel that you’ve met the challenge of reclaiming a trimmer version of yourself, after a decade of walking around like a pregnant jello sloth.

Kudos, moms are people too.

You look fabulous and it’s been duly noted. 

It’s your choice how you chose to showboat your own accomplishments.

If you’re older than 30, you may consider becoming more mindful to the fact that your actions create a ripple that touches, and invariably effects everything in it’s wake.

Lead by example.

Whether actions are intended to deliberately cause harm is often secondary and inconsequential.

It’s water under the bridge.

I realize that I’m likely to get hoards of hate mail from women who enjoy fitness and/or engage in healthy dietary practices, so let me reiterate that this is not about you.

Healthy living and cosmetic vanity are two entirely different animals.

To view everything that crosses your path from only your own self-serving perspective is to be an egotistical pompous ass.

The world is a BIG place.

It’s not always about you, so get over thyself.

If this post inadvertently offends any of my middle-aged friends, family or acquaintances, then so. be. it.

I’m a person who says exactly what I mean and stands firmly by my convictions no. matter. what.

Even if it means standing alone.

This is about (mostly) young ladies whose self esteem continues to be assaulted every single day of their lives thanks to societies continual validation and high appraisal of physical beauty.

My loyalty absolutely belongs to the next generation.

C’est la vie.

 

Lastly, for you my young friend to whom I dedicate this, she who looks in the mirror and fails to see the intrinsic beauty in herself

You are important.

You are valued simply for being you.

You are smart, funny, artistic, talented, considerate, genuine and truthful.

You are one of a kind.

You are tall, short, round, lanky, graceful and sometimes even awkward,

You are 100% YOU… which in itself is absolutely enough.

You’re a coveted and valued child of the universe.

Barbie dolls are made of plastic and filled with nothingness, you on the other hand…. are an amazingly combination of over a zillion uniquely charged particles that create a priceless gift to the world that is you… much like the twinkling stars in the sky make up complex constellations.

You emit a unique brightness that is unlike any other star…. simply because it’s YOU… and that will always be enough.

 

 

**ADDENDUM- The following is a petition started by a daddy blogger, Pete Wilgoren demanding that ridiculous zero sizes like 0 – 00 – 000 be eradicated by large corporations like Old Navy and J Crew.

Check it out here-

http://dadmissions.wordpress.com/2014/08/08/dadmissions-take-your-super-skinny-size-triple-zeros-and-shove-em/

Sign the petition here-

http://www.change.org/petitions/old-navy-j-crew-and-the-nation-s-top-clothing-retailers-take-a-pledge-of-responsibility-in-clothing-sizing

 

YOUR Easy Guide to YOUR and YOU’RE

Easy grammar – How to use YOU’RE and YOUR.

I’m absolutely not poking or pointing a fun finger at anyone, because I happen to know a lot of people could benefit from this very fun catchy lesson.

Plus, let’s face it, there are a lot of suckish teachers out there. When I was in elementary school I think the median age for a teacher was something like 102, so here’s your second chance to learn this shit for good.

If you happen to be fluent in Your-You’re already, this would be an opportune time to share this educational gem with your Facebook friends.

Ready?

YOU’RE means YOU ARE. The apostrophe replaces the A.

Example- YOU’RE (you are) a dumbass.

*I’m totally not talking to you because that would be rude,

YOU’RE (you are) never going to pass that test.

* Ditto. Rude. It’s merely an example.

YOUR – means possession. As in it belongs to you.

*Again. Rude. Not referring to your dumbassery.

Example- YOUR grades will be reflected on YOUR awesome report card.

Is that YOUR degree in English on YOUR wall?

Now get out there and use your newfound knowledge.

YOU’RE (you are) gonna knock ’em dead.

YOU’RE (you are) oh so very welcome.

PS- this is totally going on my LinkedIn profile under publications.

Hells yeah.

This is your diploma.

YOUR very own certificate of achievement because YOU’RE (you are) amazing!

Note- This post was a learning adventure intended in good fun.

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Thank you for continuing to follow this blog.  Life’s been 50 shades of bat shit crazy these days, so my posts have been kind of erratic.  I plan to be re-boarding the regular crazy train again very soon.

If you like what you just read please click to send a quick vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs- The best mommy blog directory featuring top mom bloggers

How NOT to be an Internet Troll for Dummies… and Trolls

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How NOT to be an Internet Troll for Dummies… and Trolls

1. Brush your hair and use a deep conditioner.

2. Put on clothes.

Ok, seriously.

Here goes…

3. Don’t be trigger happy. Before you comment, READ the entire post.

4. Comprehend the post. That means let it really sink in until you understand what is being said. (I had to say that, as this post is intended for DUMMIES)

Does it ask a question? If the answer is YES, feel free to comment.

If the answer is NO, then nobody asked your opinion. Simon says, “Do not comment unless you have something positive or constructive to say.”

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WHEN it’s acceptable to give your opinion on the Internet-

1. When someone specifically asks for it. A written passage might read something like this- “What do you think?” “What would you do?” “Please tell us your opinion on this matter.”

Should you happen to stumble upon a recipe for chocolate chip cookies, know that it’s merely a recipe for readers to try if you choose to, and not an invitation to start a discussion on the potential ill effects of polyunsaturated fats found in semi-sweet chocolate morsels. This would RUIN a perfectly good cookie recipe post. (Keep your sour grapes to yourself)

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Do you see where this is going?

On a related note, Extreme Mom shares batshit crazy nontraditional child rearing tales as a means of creating parental comradery through HUMOR. It is absolutely NOT a serious open forum on parenting.

I REPEAT, this is NOT an open forum on parenting.

Did I mention this is NOT an open forum on parenting?

June Cleaver and Carol Brady do not moderate this blog.

There will be no discussion on the best potty training method, debate on how much TV you allow your child to watch or what the appropriate age is for a kid to have a cell phone. Quite frankly, I could care less if you duct tape a smart phone to your kids ear as he passes through the birth canal.

*******************************************************************************************************

For shits and giggles, let’s play a fun game of Simon Says as an exercise in reading comprehension and responding appropriately.

Ready?

1. Simon says, “What’s your name?”

Correct answer- “My name is… ”

Incorrect answer- “Everyone named Simon is an asshole.”

2. What’s your favorite color?

Correct answer- < nothing > Simon did NOT ask.

Incorrect answer- “My favorite color is RED but you typed this in black ink, so you suck. Black ink makes me unhappy and irritable. You have no regard for people who are color RED enthusiasts. You’re obviously a prejudice bigot.

3. Simon says, “Look up into the blue sky.”

Correct response- < tilt head back and LOOK UP >

Incorrect response- “I’m wearing yellow sunglasses, so my sky is green. Green is BETTER and you’re an ignorant slut.”

As a page moderator, I’m getting incredibly tired of troll invasions.

I can’t tell you not to be an Internet troll, but I can tell you that your rude off-subject troll comments are NOT welcome here.

I have a troll taser in my hip holster and I’m not afraid to use it.

“Say hello to my little friend.”

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*Note to other Facebook pages and blogs- you’re more than welcome to share this. Together we can defeat the trolls.

Don’t get me wrong, bloggers LOVE comments… as long as they are in sync with the theme of the post. We also love to hear your opinion. Although, starting a heated debate or attempting to put the author on trial is seriously frowned upon and you will be tasered.

If you like what you just read please click to send a quick vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs- The best mommy blog directory featuring top mom bloggers

Extreme Czar of Special Days

Dear Trigger-happy-Facebook-sheep who re-post anything and everything,

I have a bone to pick with you that goes something like this… EVERY day can’t possibly be Mental Illness Day, Special Needs Day, Autism Awareness Day, ADHD Awareness Day and Every Other Cause Under the Sun Day.

It just can’t.

This unnecessary grassfire of confusion is total bullshit.

Someone grab the BS extinguisher and douse the ignorance inferno already.

Each cause is entitled to an allotted day, month or whatever.

Fair enough.

I totally respect special cause days. Awareness and education are key in promoting support and acceptance.

My point is simply… the verbiage is all WRONG.

Let’s get it right people, because the inconsistency hurts my brain.

Think of it this way. How outrageous would you be if someone posted, “TODAY is Mother’s Day. Repost on your wall for 30 minutes if you love your mother” on ANY random day in July and December and wheneverthefuckever… over and over again?

It’s ludicrous.

Everyone knows Mother’s Day is in May.

So when this crap pops up repeatedly in December, your brains like “WTF man? Stop messing with me.”

The brain can only be pushed so far before you can fry an egg on it, like in that very famous this-is-your-brain-on-drugs commercial.

This is your brain on Facebook.

Ssssssssssizzle.

So, get your shit together people.

On a completely different, yet worthy note I’d like to officially hose down those lame bully tactics daring you to re-post or share if you’re not embarrassed or ashamed of the said cause or what-not.

Screw you, Facebook bullies. You’re not the boss of me. I’m a rebel who will re-post nothing when manipulated or threatened.

No can do.

Bite me.

Obviously, Facebook could use some sort of official calendar czar to sort through and regulate this ridiculous chaos.

Clearly, people are confuzzled over what-in-the-hell day it REALLY is and I fear that soon they’ll be stuffing chocolate bunnies into red fuzzy stockings waiting for the ADHD Fairy or Temple Grandin to leave them a shiny red choo choo train filled with common sense.

It’s very similar to the wise familiar tale, “The little boy who cried wolf.”

Let’s face it, when something shows up in your newsfeed every single damned day, the BIG event is reduced to background noise when it finally rolls around. It’s SPECIAL is kaput.

It’s kind of like the repetitive movie Groundhogs Day, which quite frankly makes me want to swan dive off a tall building directly into Rodney Dangerfield’s stinky golf bag.

I’m so confused.

This insanity just can not continue.

Here it is in OCD order. An incomplete listing of the days that seem to get the most Facebook air time, screen time or whatthehellever you prefer to call it.

January is Birth Defects Prevention month. (not to be confused with World Prematurity Awareness month which is actually in November and not January)

The March of Dimes who’s mission is to prevent birth defects holds their annual fundraising campaign Walk for Babies sometimes in August, September or October, which is why I diligently listed this cause on our very precise calendar.

Pencil that in.

February is African-American History month not to be confused with Martin Luther King Day which is in January. It’s also American Heart month and Women’s Heart Health month.

Women’s Heart Health month??

Let’s just chill the F out ladies. It’s already Heart Health month. Stop being such attention whores and just share the month with the men. THIS is exactly the sort of thing that gives women a bad name. JC on a stick. Just stop whining. Pretty soon you’ll be demanding your own planet. No wonder you have heart problems. Y’all are self righteous spoiled brats looking for an injustice to bitch about. Bitching raises your blood pressure and will eventually kill you.

Just chill the F out.

March is my birthday, Developmental Disabilities Awareness month and an excuse to drink green beer and kiss midgets. Go figure.

April is Autism Awareness Month. Did you read that? It says APRIL. Pack your Autism decorations away in a trusty Rubbermaid tote, so you may hang them appropriately in April.

Clarification- I post informative autism related information ALL of the time, because I have a son with Asperger’s so pretty much every day is Autism Awareness Day for me. The difference is, I’m not posting some dumb shit that says, TODAY’S Autism Day, so pass it on… every single day.

From hereon in, we’ll all KNOW that World Autism Awarness Day is April 2nd, so we’ll be ready to hang our Autism stockings by the fireplace and decorate our Aspie tree on cue… in APRIL.

In May we recognize Law Enforcement Appreciation, Teacher Appreciation, Nurses Appreciation and Mother’s Day. Under-appreciated service vocations or messy jobs month apparently.

I didn’t say Dirty Jobs you guys. Mike Rowe’s birthday happens to fall in March, same as mine. Lucky coincidence. Some day we’ll toast one another with warm tankards of Guinness and he’ll clean the green stuff outta my fridge.

A girl can dream.

June is Gay Pride month and Father’s Day. Don’t confuse these two. Not all dads are fond of rainbows and not all gay men like neck ties or maybe that’s multicolored rainbow designs on neck ties?

Whatever.

If your dad is gay, you can kill two birds with one stone, which is awesome if you’re a multitasker. (unless of course, your dad is straight and has incredibly poor aim. In which case, you can disregard everything)

September is ADHD Awareness month. Right in time for back to school. Perfect.

Was that a squirrel?

I repeat, “September is ADHD month.”

October is Aids Awareness, Breast Cancer Awareness, Domestic Violence Awareness, Downs Syndrome Awareness month and Fire Prevention month.

*Note- there’s way too much going on in October. Spread that shit out. There are 12 perfectly good months on the calendar to choose from you psycho nut jobs. You’re like bratty little kids fighting over the only blue Popsicle. Someone’s going to have to chose a different month. I’ll just sit here and wait while you sort it out amongst yourselves.

Also, enough with every Tom, Dick and Harry cause having their own ribbon color. Aids started it and everyone had to be a copy cat. Originality is dead.

You need an answer key to figure out which color belongs to whom.

November is Lung Cancer and Diabetes Awareness month. Diabetes, really?? The same month that the Thanksgiving cornucopia’s overflowing with chocolate pudding and whipped cream. Who’s in charge of these things anyway, Homer Simpson?

Incidentally, the Great American Smoke-out also takes place on the third Thursday of November.

How convenient.

Grab a piece of pie to tame your craving and end up with dia-fucking-beet-us.

I’m calling Wilford Brimley to tattle on you.

Last but not least…

December is Political Correctness Awareness month. Seriously? You cannot make this stuff up. Which supports my point that PEOPLE (whomever the officials are) will declare just about ANYTHING worthy of having it’s own recognition month.

Appropriately enough, it’s the very same month people max out their credit cards like gypsies on crack, eat and drink themselves silly and overindulge in any and every possible way. All in the holy sacred name of Jesus???

Whoa…

Our society has successfully managed to reduce the once holy Christmas season to a batshit crazy stressful time measured in profit margins and sales. It’s the time of gimme gimme gimme.

I’m not a fan of the C holiday.

There’s no Christ in Christmas anymore. We may as well change the verbiage to Merry Cha-ching.

Christmas and political correctness share a common denominator in that they’re both equally out-of-control train wrecks caused by too much interference.

Some things should be left alone.

If it ain’t broke…

But, THAT’S a completely different post.

 

Predictable and Painful Facebook Statuses

I’m in a snarky mood, so I felt compelled to spiff up an old rant post I had written on Facebook Statuses.

You’ve probably been guilty of posting one or two of these fb statuses yourself.

Everyone has… so loosen-the-hell-up and embrace a sarcastic giggle, you uptight troll.

Here goes…

PICK your own Facebook status-

*FML- Murphy’s Law was named after ME. My name is Murphy and my pitiful life sucks way worse than your life. Does toooooooooo!!!

*I’m pulling a knife out of my back, because clearly I walk around with a bulls eye on the back of my shirt and continue to supply the repeat offenders with sharp cutlery for stabbing.

 

*Here are ALL 3,000 photos of my family vacation including duplicates, duds and indistinguishable images. I don’t want you to miss a single moment! Also, I’m trying my best to clusterfluck up your newsfeed and annoy the hell out of you. You are welcome.

*My kid made the honor roll again, which somehow makes ME awsum, even tho I can’t spell awesome or though.

*Going to the gym…. I do this ONCE a month and I thought the fb world should know. You may now appropriately categorize me with health conscious buff people who are clearly superior to ordinary couch sloths, who don’t go to the gym… ONCE a month.

*This is your daily picture of ME. I’m wearing a different shirt. Duh. Please tell me I’m pretty.

*I lost 2 pounds on the lettuce and broth diet. Please validate my awesomeness with a LIKE, so I won’t be compelled to squirt ketchup on the dog and take a honking bite out of him.

Note- Quit smoking posts are EXEMPT…because I said so, that’s why. In my experience, they’re usually making a serious honest effort, as opposed to their dieting counterparts who are full of shit 99.9% of the time.

Admittingly, a good majority of my own blog posts start out with, “I hate it when I wake up and I’m fat.” These are what I call being-fat-sucks posts not to be confused in any way with I-care-enough-to-diet posts. Big difference.

Moving right along…

*This is ME in a bar with an alcoholic drink in my hand laughing and having fun. I am absolutely in no way experiencing mid-life crisis or soliciting attention.

*Cleaning up my friends list. Be very afraid. In fact, keep your fingers crossed and pray to God, Allah AND Morgan Freeman. It also wouldn’t hurt to send me a gift.

*I’m eating THIS. (and you’re not)

*I love my daughter/son/embryo/mom/dad/husband/wife/EVERYONE/pet worm/cousin’s box turtle/grandma’s parakeet.

*I hate cancer, enemas, root canals and when pianos fall on my head.

*Happy Birthday to my Fb friend who NEVER interacts with me. Ever. (Note- I see you logged in at the same time. The cat must have bitten your commenting finger) You would probably duck if you saw me in Walmart.
•NOTE- when I see my Fb friends in public, I usually bear hug them even if they can’t figure out who I am. This is SO much FUN. <–I really do this. If you’ve slipped through the cracks, I apologize. I either didn’t see you or didn’t recognize you. Kindly wear a name tag next time. I pretty much love everyone.

 

*I’m posting this grotesque pic of a mutilated dog, because I’m an animal lover who enjoys terrorizing your timeline with horrific unforgettable shit that’s certain to give you nightmares. Note to my Fb friends- STOP. This freaks me right-the-hell out and is the fastest way to get unfriended.

*I’m deactivating my fb account, because you insensitive trolls suck eggs and I’m totally NOT a drama queen. YOU’RE the drama queen. If 50 people LIKE this, I’ll reconsider.

*Repost THIS in 30 seconds or the trap door will be activated and you’ll be dumped directly into the fiery pits of hell. This includes but is not limited to photos of angels, money and Jesus holding bags of money with his arm around Bill Gates. I NEVER repost e-chain mail out of general principle. It’s actually not that bad down here in hell, y’all.

*This is me and if you didn’t notice, these are my bOObs… Proud and Peacock. Maybe, if I get one million LIKES, my self esteem will rise and I’ll put a shirt on. Maybe.

 

Please SHARE and maybe TOGETHER we can save Fb from certain damnation.

 

The End.

 

The Essence of Facebook…

Any Facebook relationship status that reads- complicated is a RED flag. Cut your losses and run like hell.

Pa-leeeeeeeeeese do not insult my intelligence with another diet you’re trying. AFTER pics or it didn’t happen.

Political debates on Facebook lead to NOWHERE except… unfriend, block, delete.

Just stop. The least you can do is photoshop the camera out of the photo. Tacky.

Let’s play… Is it karaoke or a suicide note? Not cool.

Because… you’re a Facebook Rock Star and everyone wants YOUR autograph.

Not.

In three, two, one…

Facebook Security… NOT

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I’m re-posting this little spoof on Fb SECURITY with a catchy picture to trick you guys into reading it.
I have something to say about the latest Fb chain letter thing-a-ma-bullshit that says, “I want to stay PRIVATELY connected with you, blah blah blah, hover-over-my-name-and-recite-The-Declaration-of-Independence-backwards-3times-while-standing-on-your-head-shaking-a-tambourine bullshit.
No.
Adjust your own stinkin privacy settings.
This forum is called the Internet and it’s bigger than the Milky Way (not the creamy delicious candy bar, the galaxy… as in stars and shit)
If you post a photo of your cat, chances are Hitler’s great grandson’s cross dressing lesbian cousin may see it… and even like it.
She may even copy it and use it for her screen saver.
Shit happens. Especially, if it’s a cute cat.
Plus, you guys this is the INTERNET, it’s not an Amish Farm house isolated from society all quaint and private, it’s the Inter-freaking-NET.
By the Inter-freaking-NET, I mean you’re fb status is as private as a flashing billboard on Route 66.
Example: You can meticulously tweak your privacy settings to be as secure as Fort Knox, covered in barbed wire, guarded by rabid flying monkey’s, but there’s no guarantee that a Fb friend won’t share, copy or paste your posts elsewhere.
If you post it, expect it to be displayed in it’s full glory, neon lights flashing in the giant Internet showcase, right next to the Milky Way’s, M & M’s and Twix bars on Route 66… or the Great Wall of China.
I think the best privacy setting is common sense.
Which probably explains a lot.
If you must delete me, I’m totally cool with it.
You will probably miss my very fun posts though, so don’t forget to follow my blog, Extreme Mom, which happens to be a very open-ish format where you even get to follow me to doctor appointments, the dressing room at Macy’s and on occasion, even routine traffic stops by the po-lice.
I’m totally hip like that.

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SPAM for Dummies

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I’m feeling feisty. Let’s talk about Facebook SPAM.

What’s SPAM?

In addition to the obvious, yummy processed pig in a blue can, SPAM can mess up your computer.

Bad.

If you CLICK on it.

Spammers usually use far out statements, pictures or videos to entice you to CLICK.

Do NOT CLICK.

Just pretend you’re a kid and the spammer is trying to lure you into their dirty sex-bus with a lollypop.

Just. NO.

Catchy phrases spammers have used successfully on Facebook-

“Hahaha! This girls dad caught her and she is so busted!” (Right. I’m sure he has live video coverage of her in Christian Grey’s room of pain… NOT)

“Flesh eating insect eats ladies face, so cooooool!” (Are ya kidding me??!!)

“Hahaha, Extreme Mom, someone posted this very embarrassing video about you!” (In their dreams)

“You lucky duck. You won a free iPad!” (Reject this piece of fb unfriendly junk. *see previous post*)

You get the picture.

Spammers love pictures. Usually boobs, butts or short skirts. Something you’re tempted to (unwrap) CLICK on.

They’re ruthless  muthersuckers who prey on your curiosity.

Also, they can’t spell or punctuate. I’d put them at a second-ish grade level. 

(I love to approximate things. Ish = approximate)

This class, SPAM for dummies is hereby concluded.

Recant – if you CLICK on it, a mean snake with a sledge hammer is gonna jump out and mess up your computer.

Don’t CLICK.

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Facebook Spies

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Everyone knows someone who deliberately keeps a safe distance from Facebook, because they don’t want their family spied on.

You know, that reverse camera that transmits your every move, including random entries from your diary to Facebook TV ? That.

This is a legitimate concern, if you’re running a meth lab in your basement or secretly starring in adult films, in which case you should definitely keep a low profile.

(*as should people with custody issues and certain security clearances. No brainer*)

We’re not talking about THEM.

I’m poking a stick at those law abiding citizens with 2.5 children and a dog, who have an overinflated sense of ego and delusions that as soon as they create a Fb profile, they’re a movie star and the worlds the paparazzi.

Give me a break.

I could personally care less if my ex-boyfriends sister from 8th grade sees a picture of my cat.

It’s Facebook.

Get over thyself.