I can't be your facebook friend if...

I've sort of blogged about general facebook etiquette here and here but this is a bit different...

This might be a plight of the homosexual facebook user, but adding complete strangers based on amounts of mutual friends, cuteness of profile picture, and amount of skin and/or muscles in said profile picture is still a concept that alludes me.

Perhaps it is because I link my facebook to this blog and post with insane frequency, but I can't bring myself to add complete strangers. It's uncomfortable, because I share a lot of personal stuff. I mean, not consistency, color, and frequency of my bowel movements personal.

But stuff that I don't want just anyone reading.

However, in my efforts at Internet domination, I have sort of starting bending the rules and accepting friend requests from people I don't know extremely well, but I still believe I can't be your facebook friend if...

...your profile picture looks like an advertisement for some sort of sex based trade.

...our only mutual friends are people I wish I had never met before.

...your profile picture looks like you have been photo-shopped within an inch of your life.

...you have 2,000+ friends.

...your profile picture was taken by you, with your cell phone, in a mirror. You clearly either have no friends or have forgotten you aren't a d-bag circa 2002 MySpace.

...your network is a high school. I really don't feel like being featured on To Catch A Predator.

...you have no profile picture. Seriously, what is up this? I am NOT accepting friend requests from Darth Vader's silhouette. Possibly, Chewbacca. But that's what fan pages are for.

...your profile picture has eleventy-thousand people in it. Why are you hiding in the shuffle, Creeper?

...you are a business. Again, this is what fan pages are for. I even have one. 'Like' it here.

...you are couple sharing ONE account. Words cannot explain how lame this is.

...your profile picture hasn't changed for the last 6 months facebook has been insisting you are 'People I May Know.'

I probably take facebook too seriously and there's nothing wrong with networking, but if Emily Post were alive today - wait, she's dead right? - I'm sure she would agree with some of my simple disqualifiers listed above.

And to my current and/or former facebook friends, you might have found yourself defriended for any of the reasons listed above or for idiotic statuses about politics, religion, etc. that contain more profanity than your actual views or post a Nickelback song.

Also, rest assured if you have poor grammar, spelling, or punctuation, you have been hidden from my mini-feed from the moment you abused they're/there/their and other rules most 4th graders should know. Same goes for people who use wall posts that should be text messages and overly aggressive Check-Ins/Four-Squaring. No one cares that you are home. Ok? Thanks. Bye!

Finally, with the exception of people with extremely cute children, this is your account, not your child's online baby book. Nine times out of ten, I couldn't care less what your offspring is doing, unless you are balloon boying your child, I definitely want to see that.

PS - It took almost all of my self control to not use screen shots from my friends' profiles to illustrate these offenses. Some of them are close friends, and I prefer not to have an alcoholic beverage thrown in my face at the next party I go to... 

I hate summer.

That's right. Every gay man that has been killing himself at the gym and eating celery just to fit into the perfect swimsuit since April and every girl dying to show off their lower back tattoo of a Chinese symbol that she thinks means 'love' but really means 'damaged goods,' just gasped and hates me now. But it's true.

I mean, I like getting drunk by pools and wearing short shorts as much as anybody, but there is no law saying I have to be by a pool to be drunk. I get drunk lots of places, including but not whatsoever limited to: bars, patios, children's birthday parties, home alone while wrapped in a leopard Snuggie.

Come to think of it, the pool drunk might be my least favorite...

1) I'm sucking in my stomach / flexing the ENTIRE time because gay-body-issue judgement is unrivaled in any society even worse than Sorority girl judgement.

2) I don't think I could ever drown drinking wine directly out of the bottle on my couch, and

3) Sun damage. I don't wanna look like a old bag lady when I'm 35 because I insist on buying generic SPF that is probably just milk with a little bit of lotion.

Also, I like to cook and all of my favorite foods are savory warm dishes that are best served in the Fall and Winter months. Have you ever tried eating boeuf bourguignon in Texas in June?!

I did.

What I experienced fell somewhere between a heat stroke and a hot flash. As my mouth enjoyed the savory flavors of mushroom, beef, red wine, and onions, the rest of my body was just waiting to burst into flames.

Simply: no one ever got pit stains from a little shivering.

I work in a semi-professional environment. Shocking! I know, right? I hate walking into my office from the 100 degree weather in slacks and a long-sleeved button down dress shirt whilst the females of my office wear strappy sandals, racerback tank tops, and skirts so short I don't know if they are going to work or streamlining their afternoon gynecologist appointment. It's not fair or appropriate and is a good justification on why women make less.

OK. That was rude. The wardrobe thing is absolutely coming from a place of jealousy. Because if I could find a job outside of any sort of sex trade occupation that considered Daisy Duke shorts and halter tops appropriate work attire, believe you me, I would be doing it.

Finally, my sloth-like ways are better justified when it is cold and ugly outside. When it is a beautiful day, people wanna do things like be outside and run. They are also less inclined to watch all three of the Lord Of The Rings movies in a row while eating pizza and photo-shopping Paula Deen Riding Things on my laptop.

This holiday weekend was no exception. I almost suffered from no less than eleventy thousand heat strokes. So, after a Saturday pool day where I stood in the shade all afternoon and a Sunday of regulating my body temperature with Miller Lite while getting my patio drink on, I spent the actual 4th of July watching the ENTIRE 4th season of Desperate Housewives.

Yes, I own the DVDs.

No, I am neither proud or regretful of that statement.  Whatsoever.