I sometimes think I should come off social media completely as everyone seems to be getting on my fricking nerves nowadays.
Unbeknownst to them, I’ve already blocked two women’s comments from my Facebook feed as I’m sick to death of their terminal narcissism.
‘OMG, soo funny, I’m walkin down the street and this guy says Giv us a smile luv so I do and he said i’m bewtiful an I said watchit im a grandma and he said “you never u only look 30” O my days, how funny is that?’
Not. Fucking. Very.
‘Blessings indeed, this director lovely James called me and said come back and work with us yr a ray of sunshine i said who me and he winked oh saucy, such a compliment being asked back AND paid feel like a Queen….’
Oh and these can pop up at about five or ten times a day.
I get honked by blokes in vans/lorries pretty much every time I go out (until they see me from the front – hah!) or winked at by builders, but do I bang on about it?
Because it means jack shit! Most men would bang their wang into the office shredder if that was the only slot available to them, so I don’t really consider such behaviour as complimentary.
The only time I’ve posted about some finding me attractive was when some bloke tried to ‘friend’ me and when I clicked on his page, he had an AK47 slung over his shoulder. Highly amusing.
If chilling. 😦
So male cat calling and flirting is merely a dick reflex, so get over yourself love!
The other one isn’t as big on words, but selfies?! Oh my she aces in that particular field.
Again, five to ten times a day she uploads a captioned photo of herself.
On the train, smiling, looking, in all fairness, lovely – “All set for the challenges ahead!”
You go girl!
On the same train, smiling, with a croissant and a Pret coffee – “Breakfast!”
Standing outside her destination avec sunglasses, posing with arm behind head and leg cocked in the air, sending herself up to prove she does have a personality and sense of humour – “Here!”
Great! Good. Now can we leave it at that please before I…
Sat in a cafe with a panini and coke with a nearly-as-pretty companion, pouting – “Bitches be gagging for lunch!”
Then put the fucking selfie stick down and EAT, BITCHES!
Then there’ll be one of her working, travelling home, getting ready to go out in leopard print robe and hair in rollers (but full make up, can’t be seen to look minging on FB), and then, Oh God, numerous shot of her having fun with a gang of equally vacuous bints and a whole host of gay BF’s, all gyrating, posing, pouting, clutching Moet bottles (an empty from the adjoining table no doubt – miaow!) and mugging for all they are worth.
Kill. Me. Now.
And it’s the same every day.
I have no problem with people uploading photos from an event, party, or special occurrence in their lives. Good for them!
The people who moan about a friend boasting about her new baby/lovely husband/new car don’t know how lucky they are. This bird could make selfie-ing an Olympic event.
One to one, both ladies are really rather nice. A bit boring, but perfectly pleasant. And I sometimes feel guilty for momentarily despising them so much.
So I edited my permissions rather than de-friend them as I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.
Then my friends I get an invitation from Selfie bird inviting me to ‘like’ her new page.
Resigned to my fate, I click on it. It says ‘Ditsy Dumbass – Official’ and she is categorised as a ‘Public Figure’ whatever that means.
I know she does some extra work so I assume this is self promotion, but why’s she dragging me into it?
It feels to me that (a) we are already ‘friends’ but (b) she is now letting me know that she is elevating her status over mine and (c) is now asking me to worship at her altar.
And, look, there are all the selfies I have managed to avoid looking at over the past month or so!
Deep. Fundamental. Joy.
How I LONG to message her and point out that if you have to ask someone to be your fan, then SURELY they’re not your fan in the first place, because if they were, they’d have sought you out of their own volition, no? Especially when they have done everything in their power to avoid looking at you at all cost.
I don’t know why it gets to me so much. But it does. It does.
Social media has it’s place I think. It’s great for keeping in touch with those friends you never see, it renders those boring Christmas card bragfests obsolete (because we already know all about your year, gobshite!), you can stay in contact with mates from overseas etc etc, but it seems to have turned our youth into a nation of self obsessed zombies, and let me tell you, they’re not content to keep their content to themselves.
This is ‘X Factor’ nation where everyone thinks they are oh so unique and special and that it only takes the desire to be famous (oh and perhaps the support of Simon Cowell, zombie god par excellence) in order to make your wildest dreams come true, and whilst I have nothing against self confidence and ambition, the hard work aspect doesn’t seem to have registered.
So now I have to click on ‘like’, be added to her ‘fanbase’ and once again, block her from my feed so I don’t have to look at all her tedious snapshots ten times a day.
THEN, before you know it, she’ll be asking me to share her stuff on MY page! Well she can fuck right off, I can tell you.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I do NOT belong to this planet!
And there’ll be hell to pay when the powers that be discover their gross error.
Beam me up Scottie….please?!