Saturday, November 24, 2007

The wonderful world of Facebook

What up, what up, what uppppppp Blog Nation. I have noticed that I've developed a reoccuring habit up "what up-ing" people and things. Walking into our apartment door and saying "what up" have now become commonplace at 2508 Delaware. I can't quite recall where this is stemming from, or who exactly came up with new innovative catch-phrase. I better go ahead and give the copyright to Eastview just to be safe (probably the last time I will ever credit this group). Although the phrase has played a prolific role in my vernacular, I would however like to make it very clear that I am NOT a proponent of what up-ing Zanatta.

That not withstanding, I would like to focus on the topic at hand. I am going to take a break from ripping those that I know personally this week, because I don't want mention any names (Dana), but some people thought that I went a little too far last blog. But I tell you what, if you think that was controversial, then you just stay tuned boys and girls.

Facebook, facebook, facebook. I have to give credit where credit is due and say facebook is probably the greatest invention ever. I'm often embarrassed to confess how often I'm actually on this site. The first thing I do in the morning is eat breakfast and log on. I then subsequently go onto the site roughly 3-4 more times per day. I check facebook at work, I check facebook during class, I even use the kiosks in university building to periodically check for updates. If you think I have a problem, you're right. But if you don't think you have the same problem, you're lying to yourself, because you're on this thing just as much as I am and you know it! Let's be honest with ourselves and say that if we all (and I'm not talking about every person on facebook, just my immediate group of friends) put the same amount of time into looking at facebook as we did elsewhere, we could have probably constructed TCF Bank stadium with our bare hands by now.

But why are we on this thing so much? Answer: Because it's the ultimate way procrastinate and lose track of time. I have a relatively big exam on Monday morning, and I can't concentrate on studying because I'm more interested in the newsflash that Alex Stael no longer lists Weezer in the category of "favorite music," or that Mal Nelson has added photos from the weekend with the album being creatively titled: (insert popular KDWB song here). I also like to read the wall-to-wall convos between my friends and try to analyze what some of the inside jokes could possibly mean. The verbal jousting that takes place in this area is by far my favorite, and when I see a hilarious posting that's just genius, it makes my day. Trash talking is one of the many simple pleasures of mine, and those who can do it a clever fashion are very talented. I was at a bar back home this weekend and a girl hit me with a zinger that damn near stole my heart. A shortened version of the conversation:

"Yeah, I go to school at MSU, but I'm originally from Winnipeg"
-"Really? So, is the bartender getting annoyed by you paying with loonies and toonies all night?" (me with a half-constructed and very feeble attempt to be funny)
"Well, when you're buying shots of Patrone, they'll take just about anything"
What a line, and closed-circuit to the females reading (probably zero): It's not all about looks, it's not all about style, but if you're quick enough to think of a line where a guy has no comeback, you've got something special.

Getting back on track here, like everything else that's good, facebook definitely has it's cons. The one thing that I wish I could really stress to the creators of this site is: Stop trying to improve it! There's nothing you could possibly do to make it better, and with every update you create, all you do is annoy people. The last update they made to facebook that was any good is the ability to upload your own pictures, since then everything has been awful. It ruined my day when they officially made the site exclusive to high school students. Since then, it's now my understanding that anybody can create an account, and this definitely erased the college novelty. The various applications absolutely drive me nuts and also make this site closer and closer to the creep-show world of MySpace. NO, I do not want to subscribe to the bumper sticker application and Lucas Wolford think of me what you will, but please don't ever again send me another Hotness Rating Scale invitation.

The one addition that I wish you guys would have never thought of is the "Status Bar." People treat this like all of us have facebook pagers and they're letting us know everyone of their actions throughout the course of the day. Example:
"Karen is at class from until 4 tonight, going out to eat Dinner at 5, I'll be having a garden salad with red vinegar, returning home later to watch Grey's, and then head downtown with the girls afterwards!"
I don't need to know all of this, correction, nobody needs to know any of this. And if you are going to put something in this space, at least express yourself as someone that has half a brain and make a complete sentence. Don't treat it like it's an AIM away message so it stands out as "Jack is 2 days!" or "Jack is Library!" It makes you look like such an idiot.

I was told once that when you're writing a paper, or write anything for that matter, that piece of paper serves as the sole representative of you. The person looking at that doesn't know what you're personality is like, or how smart you actually are, all they can conclude about you is what's in front of them. So, have awareness to realize how you're representing yourself when you are writing. If not, all of us have the fair right to assume that Karen is a douchebag. It even bothers me when I re-read this blog and see typos, and that's why for the first time ever I had someone preview this periodical. I have been told that this edition has been a little under par, but I tell you what, I'm gonna throw out the red flag and challenge this blog to see if it's really as bad as they say it is, and I'll catch you next time.

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