Do you enjoy judging peers from a safe distance via social networks?
Do you wish you could observe people publicly shaming themselves via stupidity?
Do you relish over the misfortune of others via their haphazard Facebook-ing?
If you answered yes! to any of the above, welcome to Lamebook.
If you answered no! to any of the above, welcome to Lamebook, you just might find yourself here.
From Lame to Fame Via Red Eye Twitter
“Facebook me” is the new “text me”, formally known as the “call me”.
Let me explain.
You meet someone at the bar. It goes well. You’d typically exchange numbers, wait two days and give them a call.
To the nervous man, texting prevailed over phone conversations as a great way to get to know someone without having to be charming. Prefer instant gratification? You can form a relationship just as fast as you can T9.
However, base new relationships off texts and you may find you’ve been getting to know a tranny.
Enter “Facebook me”.
If I meet someone at the bar, shouldn’t I ask for their last name? I want to know if you’re crazy right off the bat. I need to check your marital status. I want to scroll through all 850 of your pictures to ensure I didn’t have beer gogs on.
The moral of the story: If you think there could be a next time, do yourself a fav and tell him/her to Facebook you.
Pills flying solo in your junk drawer? Can’t identify the capsule mixed in the pile of crap the Swiffer left behind?
Imprinted on prescription drugs are identifier codes. Currently, it takes a sleuth to uncover a wayward pill’s identity.
Seniors, addicts and clumsy individuals should be able to easily identify mystery pills in order to medicate in peace. Until my scripts are broadcast on my Friend Feed, I’ll be using this.
Back when I left Friendster for Facebook – Fb was 100% for college students. Now, young adults are faced with a new challenge– “Oh shit, my mom friend requested me.”
What are we to do?
