Disciples:

You have to understand something. I hate everyone on Facebook. Seriously. If you're on Facebook, the odds are stacked against you that I like you.

I'm already spotting the flaw in my logic. Sure, if I hated everyone on Facebook, then I wouldn't be on Facebook at all. Exceptions include: Anyone in my family, my friends' kids' photos that are few and far between and not shoving every breath of your fucking child down the throat of my social media pipeline. Some people, because they're genuinely, well, genuine, show the occasional photos of their children doing things like carving pumpkins or going off to their first day of school. I like this. I have "friends" on Facebook that I don't know who the fuck they are. Yet, inexplicably, I love seeing the milestones their children surmount.

Others think that every fucking toddler sneeze, cough, and bowel movement needs to be documented on the interweb. Fuck you and fuck you for projecting your narcissism on your children. You're merely setting them up for a life of self absorbed douchiness.

And, speaking of douchiness: The fact that you take pictures doesn't automatically make you a professional photographer. Seriously... Every shithead with a 6MP camera that takes a picture of a tree in black and white thinks they're a motherfucking Ansel Adams. You're a schmuck with a consumer grade camera. Get over yourself.

Oh, and the rest of you: If you're taking multiple photos of yourself a day doing different routine activities because you genuinely think that the general public (your 2000 "friends") will find those photos of you drinking coffee and looking into a computer interesting... I hate you. I may be your Facebook "Friend," but I literally hate you and I observe your posts the way a teenager smells his own farts. I know it will be gross, but I somehow feed on your absurdity.

I almost posted pictures of examples of those I hold such vitriol towards. I refrained, not because I'm a humanitarian. But rather, simply, I'm not shitfaced enough.

eff:off

gooch:out

Seven Stages of Grief as experienced by me this morning:

1) I can't believe I left my cell phone at home today.

2) I let myself and others down by leaving my cell phone at home today.

3) I'm very upset that I left my cell phone at home and would change my life for the better if it would somehow make the phone appear on my desk.

4) I miss having my cell phone with me.

5) You know... I might be okay without my cell phone.

6) I can work around this... my phone's contacts/phone numbers are accessible on my laptop and I can use an office phone to make calls.

7) I've accepted the fact that I don't have my cell phone with me and I concede that my day will never be the same, but I'll find a way to move forward.

(Originally posted on Facebook 10/15/2011)