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Caution! I Will Judge Your Facebook Status.

As I peruse through Facebook every day, I have begun to learn from most of my Facebook Friends their PFS (Predictable Facebook Statuses).

It may be that I have too much time on my hands, yes I am well aware, but I found this quite amusing and decided to share my stereotypes with you all because I assume I am not the only one out there judging others based on their facebook statuses.

However, I asked myself, what if we started to respond to these posts? Yes, Instead of pressing “like” because you know it’s polite, what if you went crazy and wrote what you are REALLY thinking?

Well, I am not that ballsy yet, but If I was, this is what I would say.

1. Dear Abby Mothers

Dear Abby mothers are women who have recently become mothers. They post everything about their kids and usually ask for advice. It’s cute to see their kids pictures, but sometimes their posts just get too…well, graphic….

Karen’s Status: Ok, Facebook Moms! Johnny is almost 3 weeks old and won’t latch on! Any advice how I can get this little angel to latch on the right nipple?!

Listen Karen, Little Johnny is cute, and if you want him to milk you like a cow that’s your deal, but I’d recommend getting a book. I don’t need a visualization of that shit. Thanks.

2. Facebook Hoochies

My personal favorite. If Facebook hoochies and match.com ever got together, I think it might be a money maker. These girls have the need to “Facebook photo” themselves at every waking moment. I am still trying to figure out why they do this. You know it’s bad when you log into your newsfeed and think for a split second you logged into to porn site.

Sample Facebook Hoochie Post:

Yes, I was guilty of being a Facebook Hoochie back in the day.

3. The “Inviters”

I wish I could delete the inviters. The inviters “invite” you to join some dumb facebook app that sends notifications to your Iphone. I get all excited thinking that someone wrote on my wall or commented on my facebook hoochie photo, but nooooo, I get this:

Facebook Notification: Cindy has invited you play Farmville! Click here to join her.

Listen Cindy, I don’t want to play fucking Farmville. I don’t know why anyone on earth would want to pretend to be a fucking farmer. I deal with pigs and clean up enough shit at work so I think I’ll pass on this one.

4. My Life’s a Lyric– Those people who post a lyric for what ever situation they are going through in life.

Ronald’s Status: More Money, More Problems – Biggie Smalls

Ronald, you don’t make enough money to post this lyric, you’re a floor manager at foot locker.

Stacey’s Status: “Go on now, go, walk out that door! / Just turn around now / cause you’re not welcome any more / Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?”

Ah, No! Another break up Stacey? He needs to treat you with R.E.S.P.E.C.T/Find out what it means. AMEN girlfriend.

5. Status Teasers

Now, i’m not going to lie, facebook IS a stalking mechanism, but that is such a creepy word, so we use “staying in touch” (sounds better). I frequently “stay in touch” with people and know what happens in their life. As I scroll down my newsfeed, I can see Rebecca got engaged to that nasty guy Tom and that Gary has a new job, YEA! Way to go Gary!

But it’s those people who “Tease” us with their statuses that drive me nuts. They don’t give you enough information and its not like you can call them up and ask because you haven’t spoken to them in years….

Tessa’s Status: I could seriously scream right now, back at the hospital…

What happened Tessa? You were doing so well! You just got a new car, moved into a new apartment, why are you at the hospital?! OMG, don’t leave me hanging here.

6. Closet Republicans

These people surface around election time. It’s those facebook friends that you never expected to be a republican, and, A LOUD Facebook republican at that.

Ted’s Status: I voted the RIGHT way because I want a better economy. No more OSAMA.

O shit, not you Ted! Dammit, I really liked you Ted. How did I not see this? Really, a republican? Well, I guess I wont be asking you to lend me a couple bucks for lunch, sheez.

7. Facebook Bridezilla (Pre and Post Wedding)

We ALL have one of these girls, some of us have been these girls. They are just about to get married, or just have, and turn their facebook page into a fucking Knot.com promotion.

Pre-Wedding Bridezilla

Alyssa’s status 12 days ago…43 days and 12 hours till I marry my best friend!

Alyssa’s status 2 days ago: 12 days, 30 minutes and 43 seconds till I marry my best friend!

Alyssa’s Status 3 hours ago: Tomorrow I get married! Omg!

Hey, so are you getting married? I wasn’t sure…

Post-Wedding Bridezilla:

Alyssa’s status 3 days ago: First Friday night watching 20/20 with my hubby!

Alyssa’s Status 2 days ago: First Christmas dinner eating steak at 6pm being married!

Alyssa’s Status 6 hours ago: Happy 3 week and 72 hour anniversary. Love you!———With Mike Palindas

Dear Alyssa, So happy for you that you got married, best wishes, but your wedding was 17 days, 5 hours and 43 minutes ago, and its time to move on. Thanks.

8. Insta-Fatty

Ah, the Insta-Fatty. Let’s see, these people are OBSESSED with taking pictures of their food. I don’t get how food can get so much play on Facebook, but Insta-fatties make it work!

Peggy Status: At that new Thai Restaurant! Yum, look how great this looks!

Looks great Peg! But we all know you’ll be on the toilet bowl 24 hours from now. Won’t be saying how great that Thai Pad was when your ass is on fire. But hey, enjoy!

9. Long Lost Friends

This category is exactly what it is, those childhood friends you reconnected with later on in life. The moment you see the friend request you get all excited!

Me and Fred used to play school at his house. OOO and we put on a puppet show for my parents at my house! This is great, my best childhood friend found me!

But then you see what they REALLY have been up to all these years…

Fred: Been smoking weed all day long… ya heard?>!

O, Fred, you really went down hill after I moved in third grade didn’t you? I guess D.A.R.E didn’t really resonate too well eh?

10. The Unknowns

These are the people you have no idea how you became friends or who they are, yet your too lazy to delete them on Facebook.

Facebook Notification: Chenny Kirk has sent you an invite to: PARtY RoCKInG! Friday, December 29^th, 2012!

I’m sorry have we met? WHO ARE YOU!?

Yes, So there you have it, My Facebook Sterotypes.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/04/01/daily-prompt-social/

Tags: Biggie Smalls, Face Book, Facebook, Funny, Gossip, health, Hoochie, Humor, Life, Love, Lyrics, Personal, Republicans, Ryan, Status, The Knot, Wedding

Comments 11 Comments
Categories Uncategorized
Author rynolexson

# Massage Problems

27 Nov

We as women pay people to do odd things. We pay someone to clean our feet and wax the hair out of our “hoo-hass”. It’s fucking bizarre, but yet so normal.

So when I went for a massage last week, I realized how stressful pampering yourself can really be.

Let me elaborate.

Last week, I arrive at the spa, late and am rushed into the “Relaxation Zone”. I look up to find a strapping young male; tall and tan with a defined jaw line. If you took off his dread locks, he would look like a young version of Fabio.

“Welcome to Renewed Spa, My name is _____ (I ignored his real name and put in my own, “Young Fabio”). I will be your massues for the evening. Please get comfortable and I will be back in a few minutes. “

“ Comfortable” -What the heck does that mean? I assume it means to get undressed but undress what? My bra? My pants? Bra, but no pants? Underwear and no shirt? The combinations are endless but all he said was, “Get comfortable”.

A girl needs a little direction, at least at the Gynecologist the nurse says straight out,

“Everything off except your bra. Gown open in the front. Feet in stirrups and the doctor will be in shortly.”

Ok, now were talking. There is no room for any surprises. When the doctor walks in, I know and she knows that my Pikachu is up and visible on the table for a proper examination.

At this point my mind runs wild…what if I get completely undressed and young Fabio is surprised? What if I leave my bra on and he awkwardly tells me to take it off…nevertheless I had to ask.

“So, I can’t remember how this works…do I get undressed totally or just…like a little?”

“Ummm…” Young Fabio’s face turns red…”Everything except your underwear”

He quickly leaves the room and I rush like a maniac to strip down; god forbid Young Fabio walked in on me as I was undressing. As soon as I am down to my underwear, I jump on to the massage table and start to think…if Boy Ryan and I don’t work out, my next boyfriend will be a massage therapist. Yes, great idea, I would go on Match.com.

My posting would read something like,

Tall, Knotted blonde looking for a man good with his hands. MUST have massage certification with specialized focuses on the neck and lower back. Must bring prior girlfriend references upon first date.

I get interrupted…Knock, Knock. Young Fabio walks back into the room.

“Ok Ryan, just relax and enjoy”. He fumbles with his Ipod and a song that could be found on the “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” soundtrack starts to play. “How does that feel?”

“O, great” I feel the need to make a joke, “I am drooling on the floor, it’s a great massage”

“ O…uh…no problem, I’ll get the cleaning lady to wipe it up”

No, I was totally joking Fabio. Idiot.

As the massage continues, I begin to realize that my body is relaxing on its own. Now when the body relaxes, certain muscles, begin to relax too. When I say certain muscles I mean the sphincter.

Yes, 20 minutes into the massage, the farting began….

I clenched as hard as possible to keep from releasing any sound. Holding my breath and clenching my toes, Young Fabio starts to feel the tension rising in my body…

“Ryan, just take a deep breath in and relax, you keep getting all tight!”

O, geez that’s because I am farting! I can’t let you hear me fart, girls don’t fart. I can’t be that girl that spoils it for the rest of the female race. They would be talking about me for centuries, “That Girl Ryan, the girl who let the secret out-literally-that girls DO indeed fart”

As the gas begins to subside, I am relieved for a moment to know that there is a blanket blocking Fabio from finding out what is really causing my “Tension”. But just when I thought I was safe from being found out, Fabio lifts the blanket to move my arm and I can feel him back away and let out a little cough.

Great, I thought to myself, I just dutched oven-ed my massuse.

10 minutes later…

Young Fabio starts to work lower on my back and I can feel the tip of my underwear sticking out. I suddenly remember that I wore my BTD panties- aka Bottom of the Drawer panties.

(Don’t judge, all of you have BTD panties)

It’s that underwear that your grandma gave you because she thought a thong was for cleaning in between your cheeks. Or those panties that you wear on a first date because your will power to stay at 1^st base is more powerful than letting the guy see what kind of underwear you have on.

Don’t Lie, you know you got em.

Let me paint a picture of my BTD panties; Red and covered with happy, fat penguins dressed in Christmas outfits. They sound cute until you see that they don’t quite fit the full top of my ass. My crack is slightly exposed as if it were saying to the audience behind me, “Hey there, nice day out today, eh?”

15 minutes later…

As Fabio moves his way down from my back to my calves, I start to feel my face get flushed with embarrassment. Shit, I didn’t shave my legs

Listen, in my life, I suspend shaving my legs from November-March. I am a married gal and my husband doesn’t seem to notice when my legs feel like a Sasquatch’s back.

Sasquatch Sighting?
Nope, just Ryan in the month of November.

Maybe, I can make a joke to ease the hairy leg situation…

Yea, I know my legs feel like an ape, but it is November. So instead of growing out my mustchase this year to show my support for Movember; I decided to grow out the hair on my legs.

Hey, I’m French.

But instead, I keep quiet and let my mind continue to fret about the hair on my legs. I just thank god he isn’t massaging my armpits…there would be no reasonable explanation for that forest.

After 50 minutes, my massage is over. I breathe a sigh of relief as Young Fabio exits the room. It suddenly hits me why I don’t get massages; they are just way too much work.

I run to exit the spa and drop off a large tip for Young Fabio; there just isn’t an appropriate monetary compensation for what this poor boy just went through.

UH…I got first world problems…#MassageProblems.

Tags: Blog, Gossip, health, Life, Personal, Thoughts