Posts tagged Internet

You Tell Your Life Story in a Facebook Status
We met at a bar a few weeks ago, and I immediately thought you’d be a fresh addition in my life. It wasn’t until I added you on Facebook that I knew how hopeless and pathetic you are. Every time you update your status, you feel the need to let everyone in the world know everything you did all day in a giant, 420-character long run-on sentence. I don’t care that you “stood in line at arby’s but it was too long and you were going to be late for work so you had to get in the car and go and your boss yelled at you and when you got to work you realized you left everything at home so then you went home to get it and decided to just stay home and then you watched Gladiator all day.” See?!?! Isn’t it ANNOYING? If a Facebook Status was supposed to be an update you the essay you wrote in 2nd grade called “What I Did Today,” the question inside the box would be “What did you do today?” So next time you call, I will politely explain why I can’t be with you anymore because it just isn’t working out. But if I go on Facebook to find a paragraph about us breaking up, I am officially putting you on my shit list.
-Written By Kiwi

You Tell Your Life Story in a Facebook Status


We met at a bar a few weeks ago, and I immediately thought you’d be a fresh addition in my life. It wasn’t until I added you on Facebook that I knew how hopeless and pathetic you are. Every time you update your status, you feel the need to let everyone in the world know everything you did all day in a giant, 420-character long run-on sentence. I don’t care that you “stood in line at arby’s but it was too long and you were going to be late for work so you had to get in the car and go and your boss yelled at you and when you got to work you realized you left everything at home so then you went home to get it and decided to just stay home and then you watched Gladiator all day.” See?!?! Isn’t it ANNOYING? If a Facebook Status was supposed to be an update you the essay you wrote in 2nd grade called “What I Did Today,” the question inside the box would be “What did you do today?” So next time you call, I will politely explain why I can’t be with you anymore because it just isn’t working out. But if I go on Facebook to find a paragraph about us breaking up, I am officially putting you on my shit list.

-Written By Kiwi


You Are That Girl I Met At A Party, Flirted With For Twenty To Thirty Minutes, Added On Facebook, And Never Talked To Or Saw Ever Again
Every day. Every day I see you in my newsfeed. Or in my Chat list. I see you, <name redacted>.  I see that green dot next to your name. Do you remember me? I ALMOST remember you. What was it, three years ago? I had a girlfriend, and you were the only girl at the party that I didn’t know. I thought you looked like Tina Fey with those glasses, but I was also wearing glasses that night. Glasses MADE OF BEER. You were a friend of a friend, and I wanted to be your friend too. But why? To save you for later? For a time when we were both single? To keep you neatly in my little virtual world of friends in case you showed up in my actual world again?  God, what’s become of us? I feel like we’re strangers. BECAUSE WE ARE.

You Are That Girl I Met At A Party, Flirted With For Twenty To Thirty Minutes, Added On Facebook, And Never Talked To Or Saw Ever Again

Every day. Every day I see you in my newsfeed. Or in my Chat list. I see you, <name redacted>.  I see that green dot next to your name. Do you remember me? I ALMOST remember you. What was it, three years ago? I had a girlfriend, and you were the only girl at the party that I didn’t know. I thought you looked like Tina Fey with those glasses, but I was also wearing glasses that night. Glasses MADE OF BEER. You were a friend of a friend, and I wanted to be your friend too. But why? To save you for later? For a time when we were both single? To keep you neatly in my little virtual world of friends in case you showed up in my actual world again?  God, what’s become of us? I feel like we’re strangers. BECAUSE WE ARE.


You Only Communicate Via Text Message
No, I&#8217;m not opposed to technology, but everything has a time and place.  For instance, when I arrive at your house, I call you to let you know I&#8217;m there.  Letting it go to voicemail and then texting me a reply is currently number one on my list of things that annoy me.  No, I can&#8217;t text you while I&#8217;m driving, and no, I don&#8217;t want to discuss my day in 160 characters or less.  This is absurd.  Maybe your thoughts can be contained that easily, but mine can&#8217;t.  Have fun discussing The Hills in between tanning sessions, and for God&#8217;s sake, try not to hit a tree.
-Written by Danny

You Only Communicate Via Text Message

No, I’m not opposed to technology, but everything has a time and place.  For instance, when I arrive at your house, I call you to let you know I’m there.  Letting it go to voicemail and then texting me a reply is currently number one on my list of things that annoy me.  No, I can’t text you while I’m driving, and no, I don’t want to discuss my day in 160 characters or less.  This is absurd.  Maybe your thoughts can be contained that easily, but mine can’t.  Have fun discussing The Hills in between tanning sessions, and for God’s sake, try not to hit a tree.

-Written by Danny


GUESTREBUTTAL: You&#8217;re a White iPhoneI&#8217;ve gotta be honest with you. You&#8217;re less desirable. It can naturally be assumed that you come as part of a package deal. Whether it&#8217;s with a spotless pair of K-Swiss, an enormous white patent leather purse, or an oversized pair of fake Fendi sunglasses, who really wants any of that shit either? &#8220;Manufacturer&#8217;s shortage&#8221; aside, let&#8217;s face it. Whenever you do end up becoming available to the mass smartphone market, you&#8217;re one of two things: you&#8217;re a woman&#8217;s phone (and damn sure not any sort of  woman I&#8217;d want to get with), or you&#8217;re a guido&#8217;s phone, and that doesn&#8217;t need any further explanation. PS:I take comfort knowing my Black iPhone won&#8217;t ever carry the stink of cupcakes or hair gel.
A Guest Rebuttal written by Dupontus

GUESTREBUTTAL: You’re a White iPhone

I’ve gotta be honest with you. You’re less desirable. It can naturally be assumed that you come as part of a package deal. Whether it’s with a spotless pair of K-Swiss, an enormous white patent leather purse, or an oversized pair of fake Fendi sunglasses, who really wants any of that shit either? “Manufacturer’s shortage” aside, let’s face it. Whenever you do end up becoming available to the mass smartphone market, you’re one of two things: you’re a woman’s phone (and damn sure not any sort of  woman I’d want to get with), or you’re a guido’s phone, and that doesn’t need any further explanation.

PS:

I take comfort knowing my Black iPhone won’t ever carry the stink of cupcakes or hair gel.

A Guest Rebuttal written by Dupontus


GUESTBREAKER: You&#8217;re a Black iPhoneI&#8217;m saving myself for a white iPhone 4. I feel like I would be lowering my standards if I brought you home with me right now, black iPhone 4.What? No, this is not a race thing. I can&#8217;t believe you&#8217;d even say that. I&#8217;ve had plenty of black phones. I even used to carry an LG Chocolate back in college. Well, no, it was the pink model. But still.I know you are the same as the white iPhone inside. I know you run all the same apps and have the same problem with your antenna. I even understand that this manufacturing shortage is entirely made up. But I&#8217;ve already seen you in so many other people&#8217;s hands. Touching. Swiping. Pinching. I just think we need a break for right now. Maybe we&#8217;ll talk this through in a couple years. Maybe. But for now, I&#8217;ve made my choice.
A Guest Dealbreaker written by Dear-Steve.

GUESTBREAKER: You’re a Black iPhone

I’m saving myself for a white iPhone 4. I feel like I would be lowering my standards if I brought you home with me right now, black iPhone 4.

What? No, this is not a race thing. I can’t believe you’d even say that. I’ve had plenty of black phones. I even used to carry an LG Chocolate back in college. Well, no, it was the pink model. But still.

I know you are the same as the white iPhone inside. I know you run all the same apps and have the same problem with your antenna. I even understand that this manufacturing shortage is entirely made up. But I’ve already seen you in so many other people’s hands. Touching. Swiping. Pinching. I just think we need a break for right now. Maybe we’ll talk this through in a couple years. Maybe. But for now, I’ve made my choice.

A Guest Dealbreaker written by Dear-Steve.


@DEALBREAKERblog: We know you huff, and we&#8217;re okay with it.

@DEALBREAKERblog: We know you huff, and we’re okay with it.


@DEALBREAKERblog: We&#8217;d apologize for ruining your childhood, but this show has only been on the air for 3 years.

@DEALBREAKERblog: We’d apologize for ruining your childhood, but this show has only been on the air for 3 years.


You Went Through My Email
Hey, you almost ready to head to dinner? We&#8217;ve got reservations and- Whoa, I&#8217;ve never seen someone close a Macbook that fast. You gunning for a speed record? Ha. No, seriously, what were you looking at? Porn? If you were it&#8217;s okay, I don&#8217;t care at all. I&#8217;m cool with that. Open it. Open the computer. Come on! Open it, weirdo. FINE, I&#8217;ll open it. It&#8217;s MY computer, so let go. Hey, let go! HERE. Gmail? That&#8217;s not so weird&#8230;OH. WHAT? This is my Gmail account. What are you doing in my email account? Did you really run an email search for my ex&#8217;s name? WHY? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? Did you really think I was cheating on you? And if so, you were were too cowardly to just ASK me? Instead you hacked my email and went poking around like when little kids read their sisters&#8217; diaries, huh? So, you satisfied? You found nothing, of course. Now you know I&#8217;m not cheating on you, and I know I can never trust you again. Mission accomplished, if your mission was to send a torpedo into the heart of this relationship. Welcome to the doghouse.

You Went Through My Email

Hey, you almost ready to head to dinner? We’ve got reservations and- Whoa, I’ve never seen someone close a Macbook that fast. You gunning for a speed record? Ha. No, seriously, what were you looking at? Porn? If you were it’s okay, I don’t care at all. I’m cool with that. Open it. Open the computer. Come on! Open it, weirdo. FINE, I’ll open it. It’s MY computer, so let go. Hey, let go! HERE. Gmail? That’s not so weird…OH. WHAT? This is my Gmail account. What are you doing in my email account? Did you really run an email search for my ex’s name? WHY? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? Did you really think I was cheating on you? And if so, you were were too cowardly to just ASK me? Instead you hacked my email and went poking around like when little kids read their sisters’ diaries, huh? So, you satisfied? You found nothing, of course. Now you know I’m not cheating on you, and I know I can never trust you again. Mission accomplished, if your mission was to send a torpedo into the heart of this relationship. Welcome to the doghouse.