Like Twitter, I never really understood Facebook.
I created an account there a couple of years ago just to see what all the fuss was about. I played around with it for a while and then I just got bored with it. I stopped visiting, and only drop in on the rare occasion where Herself wants something. For example, I dropped just after Christmas to stick up a wee video I had made of the Wren Boys. I did the job and left again. I don’t believe in hanging around where I’m not wanted.
I went in again a short while ago, just to see if I was still there. [I am] I discovered that there were 14 friend requests, 2 friend suggestions, 51 application requests and a partridge in a fucking pear tree. There was also a sack full of messages, and that’s where things get a little sticky. You see, a load of them were Christmas wishes and not having seen them, I never replied to them. Woops.
One of the little difficulties I always had with Facebook is the concept of ‘friends’. Apparently I have 133 friends, most of whom I have never heard of. Then there are the ‘friend requests’ where apparently people want to be friends with me. That is fine, but where I come from, you like someone and you become friends. There is no need for a fucking formal contract, or an RSVP. It would be interesting though to treat real life like Facebook – I walk into the pub and see a good looking Young Wan so I hand her a small contract asking if I can be her friend? I wonder how she would react? Heh!
Another thing I found irritating was the number of ‘applications’. The hard and fast rule about them seems to be that they are either boring, or else they demand my mobile phone number. They can go fuck themselves. That number is only for the women in my life. Even Herself doesn’t know it.
So, having made my annual pilgrimage to Facebook, I can ignore it for another year.
Oh, and before I forget –
To all my friend in Facebook…. have a Happy Christmas.