Facebook is not a safe arena for the highly-strung.
It's a world that welcomes people like my good self in open arms, and nurtures them in the breast of its warm and friendly environment, until BAM! You’ve developed a full-blown facebook-addiction, which, like some unshakable fungus, you have no choice but to live with.
Stalking ex boyfriends. It’s a thriving online pastime these days but, like a ‘fight club’ for females nobody talks about it. Shhhh. We all do it. Scouring his facebook page for any delectable nugget of information that would indicate he’s still safely singlesville. Or, god forbid, recoiling in horror if a member of the opposite sex has left her mark on his ‘wall,’ but we all check our ex boyfriends Facebook accounts now and again…
I remember finding a cutesy little post from a girl called Selina once. I was most upset. It read “Monday’s lecture is in seminar room B not seminar room K this week. Selina.” I was fucking livid. That skanky bitch . What kind of “lecture” was she talking about? The one where you do all kinds of rude and filthy things to MY ex boyfriend eh you cow? Hmmm. Convincing code-talk Selina, convincing code-talk.
Then there’s the photos - a whole different entity. I spent a good hour and a half debating whether or not the mysterious arm in my ex’s profile picture did or did not belong to another female. The frame had cut it off you see.
I couldn’t click off and log off until I was sufficiently satisfied that the elusive arm just belonged to one of the other rugby lads, in which case I would have nothing to angst about. It took a lot of analysing before I could pop the laptop away and retire to bed. My housemate told me this was time wasted but I whole-heartedly disagreed.
NB: I resent the term ‘bunny boiler.’ Since when did protecting one of my loved ones from SKANKS LIKE SELINA imply I was going to cook up one of their pets? This term is most offensive to obsessive-compulsive animal lovers.