Sometimes, social media sites make me want to kill myself.
(Yet here I am typing this on yet another social media site).
My mom called me last night to tell me she knows everything I’m doing because the church ladies back home accost my dad every Sunday to tell him they know everything I’m doing, then bombard him with questions about what I’m up to and why I’m doing this, that, and the other thing.
And I guess the running joke is they can’t see what’s on their daughters’ Facebooks, but they can see everything on mine. Oh, har-har. As if anything on my profile is even that bad. Well, there are the pimps & ho’s pictures… and the hookah thing… and the pictures of me making out with people… and a lot of my friends refer to me as “whore”… plus a bunch of my bumper stickers are about me being a cunt… but you know, whatever.
And so begins the profile lockdown. I always said I had too much of a life to filter it from people (and I make fun of people who sit there and “cleanse” their friends list all the time), but I think when my parents call me every week for two months straight about how hurt they are I’m not exactly an angel, it’s time to give in.
Life is great. How bout yours?
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