Damned If You Do…

I’m getting sick of Mary’s selfies
Who’s she think she is
I’m getting sick of Violet’s nonstop
Pictures of her kids

And Danny with his attitude well
He deserves a punch
And thanks but I don’t want to see
What Linda had for lunch

Don’t really want to hear Faye’s Af-
firmations or reflections
Or see all Grace and Justin’s public
Displays of affection

And Sal we know you love your dog
More than words can say
There’s no need to remind us of that
Every single day

And Micah’s updates range from simply
Boring to mundane
And Val, just post a picture once
Your weight loss goal’s attained

Don’t want to know how much Kaye’s daughter
Loves the One Direction
Or watch the Blake’s soap opera unfold
In the comments section

And Jenna rants political
And Jon is downright odd
And Donna I don’t think I need
To go get right with God

And Dan’s son is the next Cobain
So he’d have you believe
As Miles posts up articles
That no one ever reads

But nobody has problems with
What I post on my wall
Of course that just might be because
I never post at all.

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Motivational Speaking For the Unmotivated

Megan sat there watching the expression in Wanda’s eyes run the gamut from awe to disappointment to disgust. But even worse than that was the cold steely eye of the iPhone in Wanda’s hands, taking it all in with no way for Megan to stop it. It was then that Megan started to regret snorting that line of coke off the Korean executive’s cock at 3 o clock that morning. But, if she really thought about it, this was just an inevitable end to something that had been put into motion way before she even took her first shot of tequila last night.

The truth was, Megan really didn’t ever want to do anything. She was perfectly content sitting at home in her sweat pants lazing around in her unmade bed, eating Twinkies, browsing social media and waiting for unemployment checks to roll in…which is exactly what she would have been doing had it not been for the slight inconvenience of the fact that there were no unemployment checks coming in and hadn’t been for the past three months. That is what brought on the depression which was slightly alleviated by the appearance of little numbers in the notifications box in whatever social media platform she happened to be on.

It was around this time that J. Lo came to Megan in a dream (although it may have been a video on Facebook, no one is really quite sure). J.Lo went on to tell her how even someone as talentless as herself, could make it in the world if she just believed. Megan thought about the dream a long time before coming to the conclusion that the blonde hair J. Lo was sporting really didn’t suit her at all. But later on in the day, J Lo’s words started to resonate with her and so she started posting inane messages on social media platforms like “your mind is your best friend and your worst enemy”, “you are so much more than what you see in the mirror” and “sexy is a state of mind”. Pretty soon, Megan found that she had much more than numbers in her notifications box. She had thousands and thousands of followers.

The time had come. She needed to take action. She didn’t even have to pick up the phone to book the first Megan Landry Motivational Speaking for The Unmotivated Conference. The wheels were in motion.

At Megan’s first conference, she didn’t bother to prepare a speech. She scoured her brain for clever internet memes. She quoted a couple of Bon Jovi songs. The conference ended with everyone in attendance joining her on stage for a rousing rendition of ‘I Will Survive’. She was a huge success.

The money started rolling in. So much so, in fact, that her accountant started advising her to give some away to charity. Which is why, when Megan got a phone call from The Plight Of The Injured Iguanas Foundation, asking if she would donate an in home consultation to the highest bidder, (tax deductible mind you) she readily agreed.

The receptionist at The Injured Iguana did a great job of reminding Megan about her upcoming appointment with Wanda who had bid a whopping $1000 to meet Megan at her apartment at 9:00 on Friday morning for the consult. Unfortunately, it was Megan who dropped the ball. Every time she was about to enter the date down in her computer calendar, she was immediately sidetracked by the window that came up which automatically defaulted to Kim Kardashian’s Twitter page.

When Megan’s alarm started going off at 9 AM on Friday, she wished for death as she hit it repeatedly. When it didn’t stop it’s incessant buzzing, she realized it was the doorbell. She crawled out of bed in hopes that whoever it was would go the hell away, if only so that she could return to her desired state of unconsciousness. But when she saw Wanda, it all came flooding back to her.

As the two sat in Megan’s kitchen, Megan struggled to decipher Wanda’s words but she just continued to sound more and more to her like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Megan, meanwhile, battled what could have easily have been the worst hangover of all time, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was still a bit drunk. She struggled to think of something prophetic to say but she was rendered stupid from the lasting effects of the alcohol not to mention the sickening feeling in her stomach.

The Youtube video shows her saying something unintelligible. Some think it was “yolo” while others claim it was “oh no”. That is a debate that raged on for many months until it was eclipsed by the great internet controversy of whether the dress was blue or white. No matter in any case, as with the words came up rivers of vomit most of which ended up on Wanda’s new pencil skirt which she had purchased just for the occasion. I hear Megan is now gainfully employed at a McDonald’s in Pasadena.

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Photobombed In Brooklyn

Archie hated people. He didn’t want to talk to them, he didn’t want to live with them, and he certainly didn’t want to work with them. As a result, he shunned society by living in a cardboard box under the L on 86th St. in Brooklyn, and that suited him just fine.

One day, when Archie was out scavenging for food, he caught sight of Alice. He wasn’t sure what it was about Alice…perhaps the disproportionate amount of doughy flesh on the backsides of her arms, but she reminded him of his dear mama who he’d last seen when she told him he was birthed in a dumpster in the back of the Coney Island AppleBees. That was right before she ran off with Mario from Mario’s Pizza and Doughnuts on the M75 to fulfill her dreams of becoming the Donut Queen of Long Island. But in any case, his heart, which he hertofore had dismissed as no longer capable of doing much more than keeping him alive, albeit in the flimsiest of manners, skipped a beat. He felt an undeniable urge to bond with this human Alice of the Fleshy Arms and he began running towards her.

It just so happened that Alice was just in the middle of snapping a picture with her cousin Mavis who she hadn’t seen in a dog’s age (her words not mine). Archie came close but never did quite make it to Alice, who he was hoping to embrace, by the time the picture was taken.

Now, unbeknownst to Archie, Alice was on the the tail end of a 15 minute bout of fame spurred when a Youtube video of her laughing maniacally at a wind up parakeet that shouted out swear words in Chinese somehow went viral.

Also unbeknownst to Archie, the photo of her and Mavis would end up on Alice’s Facebook page bearing the caption #photobombedinbrooklyn.

So while this picture of Archie photobombing Alice was getting shared, tweeted and retweeted, Archie’s heart strings were still acting up. He hence ended up photobombing many, including a man who’s balding pate recalled memories of his favorite uncle, Heroin Harry and a particularly photogenic chihuahua who reminded him of the feral cat who used to claw through his dumpsters til old ma threw a shoe at it.

So Archie’s fame rose in social media circles by fans who called him Photobombing Phil, (because they didn’t know his name was Archie) and all sorts started to line up on 86th St. outside Archie’s cardboard box, taking photos that they hoped Archie would photobomb. The masses included washed up actresses wishing to revamp their careers, hipsters who found Phil delightfully ironic and debutantes who decided being Photobombed by Archie would be the height of slumming it. There were even some who brought their sick relatives believing Archie had strange and magical healing powers. Bootleggers sold shirts that said things like I Got Photobombed in Brooklyn and I Took A Still With Phil!

But all efforts were in vain as Archie soon decided that his misadventures were due to telepathic messages coming to his brain through iPhone batteries as well as a bad case of acid reflux from the subway fumes. So Archie decided to relocate to an abandoned industrial warehouse in Williamsburg were he was killed in an unfortunate accident involving a button holing machine he wrongly assumed was inoperative. His body was never found.

This is a picture of me and my cousin with my kids in Brooklyn getting photobombed. It inspired the blog which is otherwise fictionalized and, no, my cousin does not have disproportionately fleshy arms.

This is a picture of me and my cousin with my kids in Brooklyn getting photobombed. It inspired the blog which is otherwise fictionalized and, no, my cousin does not have disproportionately fleshy arms.

I Faked My Death On Facebook

I faked my death on Facebook
Forged up a sham account
And posted that I got stuck in
A chocolate vat and drowned

And came outpourings of concern
From family, friends and bosses
Along with 50 mediocre
‘Sorry for your losses’

And Jane who one day stopped liking
My posts all of a sudden
What did it mean? She heard the news
And just pressed the like button

Or my in laws that said “Too bad
To hear of this but look
Maybe now you’ll find someone
Who actually can cook”

But really just a lot of love
Was the all over trend
10 people that I hardly knew
Claimed they were my best friend

And commemorated me just like
I was the latest fad
Wrote lovely posts with memories
I’m sure I never had

And for three days I was the hottest
Trending news by far
Til Cam’s dog had to go and get
Run over by a car.

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Emoticonfrontation

No one can be sure what went down
With Betty on that day
Did the change on Facebook make her
Fall as easy prey

Did she not pay attention to
The update rather sudden
So mindlessly went down her wall
A-clicking her like button

So what she’d end up doing some
Would think it rather bad
She liked that Annie had no friends
She rather should click sad

And then that post of Donald Trump
Well don’t ask me but frankly
She pressed her like button again
You’d think she would click angry!

And that post ’bout the guinea pig
Who was hit by the car
You think it was an accident
That she clicked on ha, ha?

Then she was angry little Tommy
Learned to ride a bike
Cousin Sheryl lost her eyeliner
And Betty clicked on like!

And sad when in the piles of snow
Eddie found a daisy
And laughed at Martin’s rotten fruit
I fear she’s going crazy!!

And soon there’s people piling up
That Betty did offend
And with no choice they found that button
And hit on unfriend

And no one even chanced to think
That she had made a blooper
But banned her off of Facebook and
They took ‘way her computer

And now we’ll see if Betty is
Still having any fun
As she rocks on her front porch
A-holding her shotgun.

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The Nerve Of Some People

imgres-10As I sit bored in the office,
The clock hands inch on by,
There’s nothing very pressing here,
To utilize my time.

So I look to the computer,
Onto Facebook I log,
Before I know it I’m caught up,
In someone else’s blog.

Transported to another world,
I see before my eyes,
Each page a juicy peek into,
Some random strangers’ lives.

The office door flies open and,
Without any warning,
My boss walks over to my desk,
Not even a good morning.

I’m frantically attempting and,
I’m praying and I’m hoping,
To quickly shut these illicit,
Windows I have opened.

My boss just stands behind me,
Sternly shakes his head no,
“It’s the third time that I’ve caught you,
I’ll have to let you go.”

So sadly an employment search,
Becomes my daily strife,
But it’s always my mission to,
See the bright side of life.

For a great lesson I have learned,
And now it’s clear to see,
I need a boss who knocks before,
He barges in on me.

http://yeahwrite.me/fiction-poetry-writing-challenge-190

It’s Like, You Know…

My dear old mother used to say,
Try to do an act of kindness every day,
A good, old fashioned idea made easier,
By increased technology and social media.

For sending a text or an email through,
Is a low maintenance way to say, ‘I’m thinking of you,’
Without ever having to succumb to the pressure,
Of making a date to hang out together.

But probably the least taxing of all,
Is hitting a like button on the Facebook wall,
And an easy feat for you, yet the writer is agog,
By simply hitting ‘like’ at the bottom of their blog,
A mutually beneficial power of which you are endowed,
And what better place to start but here and now.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/honey-versus-vinegar/

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Why I Should Probably Maybe Definitely Delete My Facebook Profile

So if you are like me, which is to say a socially awkward middle aged mother of two, creating your Facebook profile and reconnecting with all your old cronies, was more of a plunge than a natural progression. And though it was great fun for a while, seeing how everyone turned out, and being the new kid on the FB block, it turns out that you really don’t have much to say, and you don’t really care what they have to say, or how smart their kids are, or what they had for dinner, or how they exercised for 3 hours (but, by the way, still look fat). And come to think of it, those ‘Happy Birthday’ wishes are WAY less than they were last year despite your endless dedication to theirs, and, despite a few loyal hangers on, even the comments have slowed to a trickle.

So clearly, it’s time to trim the fat, which is to say, delete most of the few friends I have, or delete my profile. That’s right…I’m thinking of committing social media suicide.

The Cry For Help

So it’s go big or go home. I mean like I don’t want to just take a bottle of pills and go to my room weeping. I mean, I want to jump off Niagara Falls screaming and cursing.  I’ve seen people do it you know, post about how FB is making them miserable and they are going to end it all. Usually a bunch of their friends rally around with the reassuring, don’t do it. And there they are, the next day, reading a bunch of insipid posts, as if nothing ever happened.

But the ever so probable reality is, that if I posted something about how I wanted to delete my profile, no one would even care. And if I posted something like “I hate you all and I’m going to delete my profile so I never have to deal with you people again” and then proceeded to delete myself, that comment would be deleted as well, probably never to be read.

And then what??!! I mean, where does computer data go to die? It’s kind of the same thing as the great mystery of the human death. Into the endless void of nothingness?  a purgatory for HTML files?  There are probably some computer nerds with well researched accurate answers for this. But the truth is, if I were googled, my FB page would never come up again, and more likely than not NO ONE WOULD CARE!!

The Solution

Plagued with feelings of inadequacy, hopelessness and depression at seeing no numbers posted next to the icons at the top of my page, I know now that I really need help. I turn to Google in despair entering ‘Facebook Depression’ into it’s endless search engine void. And you know what I found out? I found out there are a lot of people just like me! There are a lot of people who have suffered similar symptoms and many have deleted their Facebook accounts! And many of those people have gone on to fight another day… yea to build a happier, more fulfilling life, content in the knowledge that they don’t Facebook to validate who they are. Say not “I Facebook therefore I am”’ but “I live, therefore I am!”

And with this in mind, I go to my Facebook page, my cursor hovers over the delete button. But first… I should really see if any one liked the picture I just posted of my son. After all, he is my child.  I should probably maybe definitely delete this thing.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/01/22/facebook-study-envy_n_2526549.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anne-hilker/chivalry-is-dead-and-so-i_b_2168154.html