Did you know that, when you become friends with someone on Facebook, you get to witness EVERY PERSONALITY THEY POSSESS?
You didn’t? You mean, no one ever explained to you how this stuff works? Well, let me. No, I insist.
For example, when you comment on, say, a political post I’ve made, urging peace, love, and understanding, that’s just wonderful! It projects a bipartisan, united front to me and my other friends. Rah rah you!
HOWEVER….if we have mutual friends, it is possible that maybe they aren’t on the same page as me on the same subject. I know; hard to believe that I might have friends with whom I do not always agree, seeing as I’m such a shiny, hearts-and-flowers kind of gal who exudes sunbursts out of my ass and all, but it’s true! I mean, I do have religious friends who haven’t totally abandoned my heathen ass but who probably don’t follow me closely (because of all the fucks I don’t give that I vociferously do nonetheless put out there on a daily basis. And the imaginative, always cheery ways I manage to work the word cunt into daily vocabulary) without unfriending me. I also have Republican friends, though, honestly, I try to keep that noise to a minimum since there’s only so much I can take. I even have Christian Republican friends, but…. wait….I don’t think there’s any other kind, right? I don’t know if you can be a Republican and an Atheist. It seems like one would cancel the other out, because Science.
So, if that’s the case, and we have mutual friends, you can’t post THE EXACT OPPOSITE of the message you preached on my page, on theirs. You also can’t join the “Libtards Are Stupid” FB group, or “Love” that mutual Republican friend’s meme calling for the genocide of all Democrats. Cuz, guess what?
I can see that shit. What happened to all that kumbaya, motherfucker?
Same goes for you Earth mamas (and daddies; let’s be fair), talking about your kids meaning the world to you and how you always, always, ALWAYS put them first and you spend every waking moment caring for them and every sleeping moment dreaming about their futures; good on you! Way to parent!
Yes, I see all your Pinterest saves about nutritious snacks to pack away for the Zombie Apocalypse, so your kids will have brain food during those horrific days to follow. It does seem pointless to me, because we all know they’re just going to get attacked and the zombies won’t care if they have smart brains or not; they’re going to eat them anyway. But hey, you do you, Mama. I totally commend you for the hours upon hours you selflesslessy spend online, looking at Pins and venting about how hard it is to raise kids these days, but how you don’t ever miss your pre-pregnancy body and it’s worth every potty training accident, or poop finger painting art project on your walls just to be able to be their mommy. I promise; I’m not gagging. I was you once, a long time ago, before the internet, nutritious snacks, and washable latex paint.
My daily goal was to get them through the day without killing them, which meant they sometimes were bribed with cookies and chips so they’d be quiet and I could hear myself think. In a Zombie Apocalypse, those zombies would have been lurching to my front door, because we would have had primo brains to eat, saturated fats and all.
You wouldn’t give these to your kids, but I would.
So yeah, you’re killing it on social media! You’re projecting Mother of the Year! Father of the Century!
Except when – you guessed it – some mutual friend posts pics of their weekend (or weeknight) partying at the bar, or when a BAR posts pics on their FB page and YOU’RE ALWAYS IN EVERY ONE. You, with your hoochie clothes and your party face, not looking like you’re missing your kids even though to be honest, I’ve seen pictures of you out every night for the last week.
Except when you post your daily selfie – poor, exhausted you, laying on your bed after a long day being the most selfless parent on the planet, captioning it, “This mommy is ready for some zzzzzs” but then someone tags you in a pic of the bunch of you in da club at the exact same time you said you were sleeping, and then your mom posts a pic of her gorgeous grandkids, who she took overnight “so Mommy could get some sleep”.
Who’s Mother of the Year now, bish?
The hoochie, in her natural habitat.
That’s how Facebook works. In a small town, or a close-knit workforce, or fandom – just about any setting where you have friends with mutual interests or geographical settings – all your personalities can be in play at any time. Your coworker might find out how you REALLY feel about them from your Zoomba buddy, who just happens to be your coworker’s husband’s cousin. Your boss might find out that you actually hate your job from a mutual friend who attends church with him. Your MOM might see you out on your four wheeler with your buds instead of home sick with a migraine, which was why you couldn’t come over to help her move her bedroom set around.
Yes, Moms know how to work the Facebook.
She knows you like porn, too. She saw your browser history the last time she came over to babysit, when she was saving pins to her Pinterest board titled “The Best Non-Nutritious Snacks to Give Your Grandkids To Pay Your Kids Back For Their Teen Years”.
If you’re reading this and thinking, “Damn, I’m glad I’m not that dumb” then you, my friend, are in a very small community of the minority. Why am I bringing this up? Did someone light the string on my tampon? (Rhetorically, of course.) Who really is this stupid, that they think social media isn’t traceable? Isn’t consequential? And is private and secure?
Ask your mom. She’s been meaning to ask you why she found “cornhole” in your Pornhub Search engine, as well as “Devil’s Triangle”, because you told her that was a drinking game in high school.