Tag Archives: selfie

If I Were Mark Zuckerberg


The ZuckerBurger


See? We look alike.

Let’s get one thing straight from the start: I love Facebook. I adore it. Je’taime Facebook. Why? Simple. The reason it was created. The original intention. I get to keep in touch with family and friends that I don’t see often or ever without traveling or, God Forbid, phoning. Courier Pigeon, anyone? I’m not hatin’ on the Zuck or his brainchild.

So that’s out of the way. Now, there is one huge issue with Facebook. One really friggin’ annoying issue… Zuckerberg didn’t think to set RULES for posting. We are all but lemmings following suit and without guidance as to appropriate social interaction via the Internet, we end up saying things like, “I ate pie. Vagina. My trees are lush.”

If I were Mark Zuckerfucker, I would have well-established guidelines for anyone with a FB profile. If you don’t follow those guidelines, you are booted off the site and also, fire ants are released down the crack of your bum.

If I were Mark ZitiMarinara, I would enforce these rules to ensure that Facebook stays the social media channel of choice because it has the balance we all seek between trash and news, between levity and reality, between cats playing the piano and up to the minute coverage of political revolutions.

If I were Mark Zuckerballin, these would be my Facebook rules:

Selfies – You may post one selfie per week. The correct number of selfies has been well-tested and… One per week, people. That’s it. By well-tested, I’m referring to the unfunded, unprofessional and unsolicited social experiment that my friend and I conducted. If your selfie involves premeditated props, outfits, staging and professional lighting, you are simply a douchebag and your FB “friends” are sharing that photo with horrible captions via Messenger.

Lurkers – This is Facebook, not Stalkerbook or Creeperbook or SingleWhiteFemaleBook. Let’s see your face. Read your comments. In the sage words of Vanilla Ice, “Stop, Collaborate and Listen.” Don’t be a voyeur. What are you afraid of? Interact. Be part of the community or stop looking at our #TBT photos and judging how we’ve aged.

Kids – Your kids are adorable. We want to read what ridiculous nonsense they say that makes us all chuckle and go, “Kids say the darnedest things!” in our best pre-sex offender Bill Cosby impersonation. We want to see pictures of them in capes and high heels and a ladle on their head. We do not, however, want to read a 12 Act play of their dialogue and we don’t need a daily blow by blow of their activities. We don’t need pictures when they wake up, eat their breakfast, drop a twosy …

Crossfit – Stop it. When you post how many squat drop diddles you do, we all want to throw a dumbbell at your privates. We don’t need your menu de jour of planks and squats and tippy toe touches. You drank the Kool-Aid; we get it.

Food – Great! You tried a new recipe. Awesome. Found a new healthier alternative to chocolate cake? Sweet – tell us. Once in awhile. Daily pictures of your three meals and 2 healthy snacks per day are too much. Discussing your cooking methods in such depth that I know how many times you stirred your spatula; that is more than too much. You have a Bobby Flay complex. I just created that… The APA may want to consider adding it.

Games – Go ahead; invite me to play Candy Crush one more time… I dare you. When I get a notification that someone invited me to play a game, I literally want to blow up the world. That might sound extreme, but after you decline for the 937th time, it becomes a realistic and seemingly plausible plan. Certainly justifiable.

Negative Nancy – We all have bad days. We all get our britches in a bunch because of bad customer service. We all have been the recipient of someone else’s bad mood. And we all want a little dose of “misery loves company” to elevate our outlook. That being said, if your posting becomes more depressing than a handful of downers, you should seek other sources for empathy. A therapist may be a good place to start. The rest of FacebookLand is just trying to muddle along in clouds of cotton candy and rivers of fruit punch and you’re jacking up our vibe.

Sad Stuff – Don’t post it unless it is actually going to help someone. If you are only posting it because you are the Negative Nancy from above, stop that shit, and stop it now. If, however, you have to post something sad for truly good reasons, you still must counteract with something happy within the next few days. We need to know you’re ok. We’re not heartless, just judgmental.

Sharing Funny Videos – If you share an already viral video, it better be funny. I mean damn funny. I mean make us laugh so hard that tears come from our eyes and pee from our respective gender parts. Because chances are good that said video has appeared and auto played in each of our feeds about 50 times already. So speaking for myself, if I have to see it AGAIN, it better be the kind of thing that makes me spontaneously laugh days later when I’m at the Sonic drive-thru and the employee thinks I’m ordering a large, unsweetened BWAAAAHAAAHAAA.

So there you have it. If I were Mark ZippySnatcher, these would be my rules and Facebook would be a better social forum because of it. Don’t you think? Now if you will excuse me, I have to post a selfie with my kid playing Candy Crush and eating the gourmet Gluten-Free waffle I’ve just made before I go to the gym 😉 What?!? If I were Mark Zucklymooker, I wouldn’t have to follow my own rules… Damn, bitch, I’m worth like $8 trillion.


I See You Dancing in Your Car

Excuse me, sir? Yes, you in the Nissan that you purchased for its safety rating. I see you dancing. You seem so shocked. Sir, you are not in a club. You are in your car, in the daylight, by yourself, and I can see you. So can all the other cars driving alongside you. What? You are so embarrassed you are now hiding behind your sunshade?

It’s ok, man. I got you. I feel your flow. I, too, dance in my car. In my kitchen. In the grocery store. But that’s another story. I dance in my car because frankly, I don’t give a shit if you see me.

Sir, you and I may be very different, but I assure you our car dances started the same. A simple steering wheel drumming, perhaps a few head bobs. Some fidgeting with the dashboard, a couple channel changes. OH SHIT! THAT’S MY JAM! And by the first chorus, full-on dance face, body-contorting, seat-belt restrained dancing. It doesn’t even matter if you are a good dancer on da club floor or not; in the car, we all dance the same… and it ain’t pretty.

It’s OK!!! Here’s why…

IT IS SATISFYING! And not just to those of us that upper-body bop in our sedans, but pretty much to anyone that witnesses the seizure style car-thumping.

– It puts the average onlooker in a good mood. They either think you are hilarious to watch or they just feel your vibe and wish to adopt it.

– It helps a judgmental gawker fulfill their judging quota for the day. They think you are an asshole.

– It turns a peeper that is attracted to you on. They think you are hot shit.

– It perks up a sad surveyor. They are just glad they aren’t you.

So you see, those of us that dance in the car are really performing a community service. Our air drumming, hair-swinging, iPhone selfie-taking moves are doing the world a favor. To be fair, I don’t know if this reasoning will hold up in court, if say, your dance moves cause you to careen into another vehicle. Or even put a hole in your own garage.

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