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Photo Friday: Facebook Sucks

I had something more exciting planned for today. At least I think I did. Regardless, it is long forgotten and then I got frustrated with Facebook because running a Facebook page with mostly your smartphone is like trying to poke ALF with a chopstick after he’s flown back to Melmac.

I don’t know that because I watched ALF. I know that because I watched Saved by the Bell and Screech mentions it like 9.5 times.

IMPOSSIBLE. It’s impossible.

First they make you download another app. Which is stupid, I don’t want two apps for the same @#%! website. Then they remove half the functionality. Then they just make it not work at all. You can uninstall and re-download if you want to waste 45 minutes of package fail and network down messages. Personally, I’d rather watch two episodes of ALF.

Meanwhile, since they want you to use that worthless app, they make the regular app totally useless for page posts and everything you post shows up as a wall post from yourself. Meaning no one sees it AND your real identity is identified. Because that’s totally what I wanted to happen.

LET’S NOT MAKE THIS INTO AN ANDROID/APPLE DEBATE. Just do not go there. Soooooo not in the mood.

ANYWAY.

Here are two photos that I INTENDED to post on my Facebook page but Facebook had other ideas. And if you follow me on Instagram, then you’re awesome but these episodes are repeats.

Garden Party

Garden Party

"Look, lady, I'll eat it. Just stop with the damn noises."

“Look, lady, I’ll eat it. Just stop with the damn noises.”

And yes, this is a thinly veiled ploy to get you to like me on Facebook. Even though I hate it right now.

I can’t quit.

Call Intervention. Zack Morris has a cell phone you can borrow.

And no, the alliteration the title could have had did not escape me. I just thought the annoyance wasn’t worth the vulgarity. Which is weird. For me.

Happy $@%@! Weekend!

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There’s Something About Facebook

I’ve told my family. I’ve told a handful of close friends. I’ve told utter strangers on the interwebz.

But there’s just something about Facebook.

It’s not that I don’t want people to know. They’re all going to find out eventually.

It’s not that I don’t want the attention. I love attention. I’m the baby of my family and the only girl. I thrive on attention.

I figured I would do it after the first visual confirmation. Got that. Then it was upon entering the second trimester. Well, that’s, like, practically tomorrow (where the F did that time go??). I am still holding out.

Drink beer. Get name on wall.

College. Drink beer. Get name on wall.

I think it’s because the majority of my Facebook friends are from the college era. And I wasn’t exactly the picture of responsibility back then. Unless your definition of responsibility includes not studying, copious drinking, fake IDs and 4am cheese fries (I miss you, Richards!). Usually the night(s) before finals. AND my frat boy husband was worse than me.

Will our parenting style be the same way? Probably.

And everyone knows it.