Tuesday, November 6, 2012

One Last Round of Facebook Selections (and Why It's the Last)

Lest I still have any readers that don't come here by way of the social networks... Right around the two-year anniversary of my second Facebook account, I decided to wrap it up and find a new outlet for my witticisms. The overwhelming majority of my "friends" there weren't really friends at all. There were simply too many people who never talked to me or so much as gave me a "like", and with whom I didn't otherwise connect at all, even though I'd known most of them for a great many years. Perhaps they were just busy; perhaps they were humoring me by keeping me as a friend while "unsubscribing" from me. I can't tell. A great many of them were married and/or had (or having) kids. I don't much care about the kids, and all the marriages just served to remind me that I'm hopelessly alone in a place where people are bred to shun individualist guys with beards and deep voices. And it sure seems like once people are married, they have to break off all other social contacts, save for a few close friends.

So, I'm kind of bitter. I decided I needed to get away from all these people on whose walls I can only say "~<:-)" (my version of "happy birthday") when it's their birthday because I have nothing personal to say. Time to find a new outlet. And so I came up with...


Feeling bitter? Come to Twitter! Heh. *cough* I'm also transferring the few groovy people from that second 'Book account to my original account. Anyone who's an actual human is welcome to add me there. I'm also set up on Google+, but I very seldom check that desert.

Okay, so now that I've issued my usual cry for attention and appreciation (and no doubt repelled everyone), here's the last batch of my favorite of my own Facebook statuses, as well as the first few "choice chirps" — favorite tweets. Here's to many more.


I was always a bit self-absorbed growing up. It turns out a "graphic novel" is not just a regular novel with more detailed descriptions of gore.

Why do we call 'em "The Lower 48" when one of the other two is farther south?

Expressions we ought to have: Shit got had!

Tie-dye shirts are great. If they get "stained", no one knows. It just blends right in.

Toilet roll: A particular type of oddly-shaped bit of bread.

Sight of the night: A vehicle labeled "Luxury Transport" with the tailpipe dragging on the ground.

I've thought it over, and I've decided I'd rather be a pussy than a dick.

I never know quite what to say on or about Memorial Day. Words like "happy" and "celebrate" seem wrong. Best I can think of is, May peace (have) come to our military folks. And I hope that's right.

That's whatever-number-you-just-said more than I've done.


....oh, sorry, am I not allowed to hit the road anymore?

If food be the music of love, cook on.


My family argues to the point where it corrodes your nerves. They're acidic Jews.

Caption in search of an illustration:



Is a single piece of ravioli a raviolus? These things eat at me. And vice versa.

It was all right at first, but I gotta tell you, I've gone right off the idea of having a cup of shut the fuck up, or a bowl of bow to my superiority, or whatever container of whatever directive. Please, have a vat of leave me alone.

You are somewhere else.

In wanting to be free, it seems most people are quick to settle for being cheap.

Monkey-descendant see, monkey-descendant consider.

Don't talk with your mouth open. Don't eat with your mouth full.

I ain't out of the cornfields yet.


If you're really interested in privacy, why are you on Facebook in the first place?

I'm getting mighty fucking sick of all these "job openings" that require experience. Is it too much fucking trouble to actually teach someone the simple task of shuffling papers and answering the phone professionally? I know this status jolly well casts the latter in doubt, but I think I could at least try. But if so many of these jobs or would-be employers require experience, how the fuck does anybody get a job in the first place? I'm tired of this shit.

*pant* *pant*

Okay, I'll put my *pant*s back on.

An antimorphous face
not too far from red
concealing worlds and eras forgotten

He's dealt with the space-time anomaly very well
outrunning the ever-encroaching homesickness
but now a rare friend in Wonderland
escorts him to the tarmac
Takeoff is soon

The third tentacle didn't know what the seventh tentacle was doing.

Please.....make Flo the Progressive salescreature go away.



While listening to Chuck Berry's Roll Over Beethoven, I suddenly realize where the phrase "rhythm & blues" comes from. It's standard twelve-bar blues set to a novel, prevalent rhythm. Freaky.

There's another component of the whole college football culture that turns me off: the marching band music. I just don't like it. It all sounds the same, and it doesn't do anything for me. Basically it serves to connote the whole "we rock, they suck" cultural mindframe.

I suppose it's not an accident that I spend most of my time alone, listening to weird stuff.

An idea in search of an illustration: a fat Steal Your Face logo, called Stuff Your Face

If it hasn't been already, I think we should go ahead and redefine "acronym" as any set of initials.

I find it rather interesting that Frankie Valli's whi-yi-yine was actually a smash-hit once upon a time and an oldies staple yet. It's just totally counter-intuitive.

What is this nonsense I've heard about "I'm just like everyone else; I put my pants on one leg at a time"? I don't know about anyone else, but you know what I do? I sit on the edge of the bed, hold the top of the pants open, lift my legs, and FOOMP! Both legs at once. Now, socks! THOSE I gotta put on one at a time!

The thing I was eating that I thought was ice cream instead turned out to be "frozen dairy dessert".

Here's something wonderfully stupid: natil gip. Take any word that ends in "ay", remove the "ay", and put the new last letter at the beginning. There's a wonderful w to l a bit of dto to waste.

Sorry, sharing is unavailable at this time. Please try again later.


Forever Unemployed meme:



another Forever Unemployed meme:



That "said no one ever" comment is really clever!

....guess what goes here.

You may have reached adulthood if you've taken up doing crosswords.

You also may have reached adulthood if you complain to yourself about the horrible clues and certain subjects the crosswords feature. Has it occurred to these people that some of us don't live in New York?!

Passing thought: Is it safe to get in the other lane and pull ahead?

Stream of consciousness
expand out to a river
and to the ocean

Peddle. There's a word that's all but disappeared. All we got now are vendors and salespeople. What happened to the peddlers? Bring back the peddlers!

Also, I sense that there was once a single word "launder" for "do laundry" or "wash clothes" that got hijacked by criminals over the years. I'm too lazy to do laundry; I'd rather launder.

I know Clapton didn't write Cocaine, but those first four notes sound eerily similar to those of his earlier Cream hit, Sunshine of Your Love.

I've never been near the Arctic Circle, but I hear it has a certain aurora to it.

Soup: A clever way to simultaneously quench hunger and thirst.

Apparently there exists out there somewhere a different kind of mouse — one not associated with a computer. It leaves "droppings".

Hot dogs and pickles. How phallic was your dinner?

The frequency with which physics manages to turn my clothes inside-out in the appliances is kind of astounding.

As a writer, I'm trying to learn the fine distinctions between pretty, beautiful, lovely, and gorgeous.

Driving backwards, I
only realize ever
increasing distance

Talking at cross-purposes: vehemently arguing.

I have to question the use of "for good" to mean "forever". In this soulless, corporate age, I rather doubt that these local shops are closing "for good".

I should totally adopt "Is that a euphemism?" as a catchphrase.

A lone ant on the
bathroom wall. Now that's an in-

If you can't stand the bark, part ways with the dog.

You know what kind of pet I like? One whose mere access to their equivalent of the bathroom doesn't depend on me.

Open window behind closed blinds

My parents put the "err" in "errand".

With so many windows open, it's a wonder this thing doesn't freeze more often.

I don't even have this car.

All it takes is one small "oops".

Instead of tweeting, I think I'll chirp. Take that, establishment!

No comments: