Showing posts with label facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label facebook. Show all posts

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Must. Keep. Clam.

I don't know what it is. My Catholic school edumacation? My mom's propensity to copy edit menus in restaurants? Facebook typos kill me. The occasional error, I get. We live in a fast-paced world and nobody is perfect. Yet I have "friends," and I use the term loosely, who cannot post on FB without an error.

One such friend posts god-awful things about his wife, pictures of hot chicks in bikinis, shout-outs to his business (seriously) and rants about Obama -- all of which contain misspellings. The other day, he wrote a long post that had no errors. My immediate reaction was to clap and say to myself, "You did it!"

His most recent post has a picture of a woman in a thin bra, short-shorts and high heels and reads, "If you voted during the last presidential election to prove that you are not a racist, vote this presidential election to prove your not a moron (I was gonna post a political photo, but lets face it, we (all my male and lesbian friends) would much rather look at an attractive female......."

Exactly: prove that your (sic) not a moron

Anyhoo, if you're a freak like I am, you may really enjoy this little link. A virtual gift from the gods. Shorter and sweeter (and marginally less off-color) than its kissing cousin.

In response, I created this masterpiece with (once again) my mad PowerPoint clip art skillz.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Doucheoisie

One of my best friends from college married a wealthy Dutch woman who cannot stand me. As a result, he's no longer allowed to be friends with me. Understood. This past weekend, I learned via a mutual friend that she also refuses to visit his presumably downscale family in Cheektowaga so he has to go alone.

As the Countess Luann de Lesseps would agree, money can't buy you class.

In local news, our crazy neighbors on the corner (post #1, post #2, post #3 and post #4) are at it again.

This time, the husband dragged the wife's entire closet of clothes to the end of the driveway. From what I've been told, it was a giant heap of possibly more clothes than I've ever owned -- from 1964 until today. The cops were called in. The neighborhood gossip levels began peaking once again. But none of that is really of interest to me aside from: a) How/why does he stay married to a lunatic? b) Are there signs before tying the knot that you're marrying a lunatic? If so, what are they? Maybe her juvenile obsession with sex and high heels? Or her preponderance to share her sex life on Facebook (i.e., through a series of brief comments re: how long it took her husband to finish)?

Anyhoo, what's really of interest to me is much more simple than the nonsense above. When I drive past these neighbors, smile and wave, would it be so difficult for them to return the wave? It's a simple, kind gesture that says, "Hi." It also says, "Sure you might be a freak parade but that's okay. We all have our problems. Let's agree to coexist peacefully."

As the Countess Luann de Lesseps would most likely agree, moving into a new town and neighborhood so that your children can have better opportunities (i.e., the wife's words, not mine) but then treating your neighbors like social pariahs is counterproductive. Not that I, personally, will be providing her family with any opportunities; but, hey, I'm a nice person. Perhaps I could provide a small degree of happiness in an otherwise bizarre life if they'd only be willing to glance at me.

Just a thought.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Clientbook

I think Facebook should branch out into Clientbook. That way, whenever a client is touched (so to speak), the person in the organization who spoke/met with the client can update the status.

Bob: "Just spoke with the lead engineer. Putting in formal change control request and updating the statement of work."

Then anyone in the company can get an immediate, qualitative dashboard of all client-facing activity and further click on any one client for a deeper dive.

I've been working with so many client tools and systems over the years but nothing I've seen is as quick and immediate as Facebook.

Just a thought.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Idiocracy

My neighbors "defriended" me on Facebook because they believe that I'm the "mole." It took me a while to notice because I had hidden their comments from my newsfeed.

I have a shocking news alert for them: Facebook is public. What they post, all of their "friends" can see -- including the "friend" they're bashing. No mole required. Crazy, I know.

Old adage: Good fences make good neighbors

Facebook addendum: Heinous public comments make bad neighbors. Own it.

I have also hidden the comments of an ex-coworker who shouts AWESOME in every post -- often myriad times throughout the day. "Just had lunch with my AWESOME wife." "Riding my bike to work on another AWESOME day." I can't stand another AWESOME sighting.

I think I'm becoming cranky.

Monday, August 3, 2009

As Facebook Turns

A couple of my neighbors are certifiably crazy and it's getting out of control.

Until recently, the young couple who live in the cape on the corner were the poster children for minor oddities. When they first moved in, we had a few families from the hood over for dinner. With the guys in the other room, the wife let all of the women know that she married beneath her. She barely knew us but needed to share how a) wealthy her parents are, b) she was on the beauty pageant circuit as a child (this by way of explanation re: her current weight issues -- making up for her lost childhood), and c) awesome her husband is in bed (which is why she married him -- she claims he's not very bright). Not really what we need to know about her beau hunk of a man. Especially a year later when she was bragging about how they broke their headboard.

Over the past couple of years, she has informed us that they were moving to another house in town, to Long Island, to Pennsylvania, to Ohio, to Florida, etc. Our next door neighbor, Peter, does a fabulous impression of her mind-changing tactics by mimicking the train board updates at Penn Station.

This same woman got liposuction and a boob job while undertaking fertility treatments. Just when she had the fat sucked out of her, she became pregnant. Nice investment.

Most recently, she spent days with an architect redesigning their home and then immediately put an offer on another home one street over. In the course of a few short weeks, after selling their home and renovating their new home, she has been posting pictures of her new home and updated kitchen on Facebook.

In response, two other women on my street have been publicly deriding her by posting nasty comments and obnoxious status updates. What makes grown women -- one in her early 30s and the other in her mid-40s -- think it's okay to bully someone? Can they possibly feel good about themselves after doing so? It's heartwrenching to watch; no one deserves to be treated so poorly especially by "friends."

I don't know the back story on why their friendship ended. Nor do I care. I only know that after she finally de-friended them on Facebook, one allegedly sent her a threatening email. This couple then called the cops from their beach house in Long Beach Island, NJ and placed a follow-up call to my hubby to watch their now vacant house while they were away for the summer. Sure enough, I passed a squad car in front of their house yesterday morning.

What started with a harmless, and otherwise friendly, neighbor who kept us entertained with her peculiar antics has turned downright vicious.

The only thing that could make this drama complete is if Alexis Carrington moves into their home. We need to add some knock-down-drag-out catfights to the mix around here before we get too comfortable. Maybe a murder mystery to top things off.

Suburban intrigue unfolding on the Real Housewives of Podunk.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Bacon for Mercy

I love how Facebook advertisements really target their audience. Seriously.*



Bacon really does make everything better! I'm planning to wrap my Change Management seminar in bacon just so my boss will love it . . . either that or go home tonight and drown myself in a giant vat of smoked pig lard.

Bacon martini anyone?

*But I hate how I cannot seem to get my images the correct size on blogger. Oh well.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Native New Yorkers Can Be So Aloof!

My mom's friends are trying to convince her to get on Facebook.

Me: Mom, I love you and you pretty much know everything there is to know about me but, if you sign up, I don't want you as my Facebook friend. It feels too weird.

Mom: I don't want you, or anyone, as my Facebook friend. If you have something to tell me, call me or send me an email.

Me: But it's fun to see what people are up to everyday.

Mom: And I should care . . . why?

Good question!