I was first introduced to Facebook by Comedian James Hannah a few years ago, he pitched it as a more adult playground for communication and connection. And at that time it was; I reconnected with friends and even relatives enjoying the banter and fun of status updates and pictures. Then the playground started to get populated with party promoters and event planners …and even then it was still cool to deal with events and calendars to a nominal degree.
It continued shifting gears as my numbers grew and I started to get marriage proposals from “Princes” in Africa, and I mean from every region of the continent. Then one day my Facebook world changed forever…the fucking shoe people arrived and my inbox became flooded with event invites in Arkansas from local hairstylists having networking mixers in their salons. I was changed forever my friends, my world came crashing down and doom was in the air…SORRY, being dramatic can be my job at times.
Every time my computer would come on I would have been tagged with Air Force Ones with 3 inch heels…OK, let’s talk about this for a second: I am a grown ass woman, and not a fashion model, which means I have NO business sporting Canary Yellow 3/4 Air Force Ones with a spiky heel. We just don’t go together! I have also been tagged with Christian Louboutin for the most outrageously low prices you could ever imagine. I am from the hood so I assume EVERYTHING to be a scam until proven otherwise. I want to send Facebook a letter expressing everything that I feel and hope that you can empathize…It goes like this.
What’s up with the Bullshit? We used to be cool at a point till you let motherfuckers from my past tag me with pictures that I am ashamed of and would not like to wake up to after a long night of performing at the comedy club where 30 random assholes decided to show up at once. I resent the fact that there are more pictures of ugly ass, red bottom, ho-stroll looking shoes on my page than family members. Checking my inbox is an epic fail because “DJ Hot Shit and Them” have decided to throw a “White” party in North Carolina on Friday and guess what?? I’m invited, only I don’t fucking live in North Carolina and don’t plan to go there unless I fail in life. By the way, I don’t like being forced to instant message with folks that I don’t really know and sometimes don’t like. Why are you fucking up a good thing? Let me know when you get your shit together, I will be kicking it with Twitter.
if terrorists were holding a gun to my head and threatening to do a reality show about my real life.