What am I supposed to Talk About Now? Oh yeah, Facebook!

In case you've been living under a rock, President Barack Obama was re-elected.

And my vagina unclenched for the first time in months.

All the horribleness that is watching a campaign play out was made worthwhile knowing that Mittens McMagicUnderPants would have to go home and cry in his beer glass of warm milk.

Until I got on Facebook, that is.

I always thought my friends were just overdramatic losers without anything resembling an actual life. But in the days following the election, I learned they are also slobbering idiots/bigots.

Good to know, guys!

Here are a few gems I just had to share with you all.

I voted. Where's my money? Love, Moochers

No problemo.

In all fairness, you won't be able to say much when 

you're a Communist.

Dammit, I was wondering where my baby went.

Wait? He's black? I just thought he was Hawaiian. Fuck.

And last, but definitely not least, ME!

The Mayans were obviously huge Romney supporters.

*UPDATE* My Facebook friends are well-mannered and informed compared to the election night social-networkers compiled at Jezebel. Warning: Many of these posts are ridiculously offensive.

A Message to Self-Proclaimed Grammar Nazis

Hello friends,

I have a question. Is it just me or are self-proclaimed Grammar Nazis becoming more prevalent?

I feel like I can't get on Facebook, or Pinterest, or YouTube, or any of the other sites that occupy far too much of my life, without seeing a person do something like this.

Or this.

Congratulations! You have grammatical skills rivaling any child coming out of elementary school. That does not make you a Grammar Nazi. It barely makes you a Grammar Mall Cop.

Take that nonsense elsewhere.

Just because most people are idiots, does not mean that you are a genius for tackling the most basic form of grammar.

No one thinks, "looks like I'll be kissing cancer goodbye, cause homeboy who knows how to properly use a possessive will obviously be curing that shit in no time!"

It just doesn't matter that much. And you kind of look like as asshole--an asshole who is super freaking proud that they've mastered the grammatical equivalent of not shitting yourself. 

Listen, I'm not bad-mouthing anyone for thinking they're intellectually superior than a vast majority of the population -- hell, I've created a blog on that premise alone, but maybe we should take the self-praise down a notch. I mean, we all have our flaws.

If you asked me to do fourth-grade math, I would literally break out in a cold sweat. I can't do long division without a calculator and three Asians.

And that's my cross to bear.

I'm just saying, maybe we should relax with the whole passive-aggressive, grammar-correcting thing and instead focus all of our energy belittling a group that deserves such universal hatred.

Like people who take half-naked, self-photos in their bathroom.

Olympic Cycle Political Participants and the Bloggers that Hate Them.

I should probably be talking about politics--what with the RNC last week, the DNC this week, and a presidential election a mere 61 days away—but I just don't have it in me.

As someone who has branded herself a political blogger of sorts, I have a semi-scandalous confession. 

Election season makes me hate politics.

I know I can't be alone. I can hear the exasperated sighs from everyone when, yet another, political ad flashes on the TV screen, when your second cousin, with his eight-grade education, waxes poetically about the president being a Kenyan Muslim who collapsed the economy and the World Trade Center with one swoop of his half-black finger, and when every media outlet forgets their journalistic oath of unbiased coverage and picks a mother-fucking side like this is dodgeball.

It's not a secret, I'm a Democrat. A left-leaning Southern-born feminist, and I could write a goddamn novel about what it's like to have people around me think I'm a moron for my political beliefs. It would go a little something like this.

Now while I'm more than used to being in the political minority, I have a hard time listening to people who are what I like to call “Olympic-Cycle Political Participants”. You know the type, they actively participate in the presidential election, but couldn't tell you the name of their Senators if you put a gun to their head. They also always seem to scream the loudest—probably because they have to make up for all those years being political vegetables.

Now don't be misunderstood, OCPPs exist in both parties. But this is my blog, so I write about my truth-- a truth redder than 1980s Russian Shark Week.

These are the people that make this time particularly hard for me. Because while I'm extremely vocal on my blog about my opinions, I try to be respectful of others beliefs in my real life. I don't often post political messages on my personal social media sites, mainly because I realize the people who disagree with me are not going to be swayed by a snarky meme, just as I would not be if the roles were reversed.

I also am not interested in fighting with unarmed men. This may sound slightly arrogant, but I love politics. I follow it like most people follow professional sports. So I'm not going to argue with some once-every-four-year voter, just as I would not want to argue football with someone who knows what in the fuck a wingback is. (Thank you, boyfriend.)

But while I'm frustrated with the social-media zealots, the political ads and the Rush Limbaugh's of the world, I can't help but still tune it.

Just now, I watched Gabby Giffords lead the Pledge of Alligance at the DNC, and I can't help but feel lucky. Lucky to have a voice. Lucky to care enough to vote, to be an active political participant. Because November will come and go and OCPPs will go back to spamming my Facebook feed with Farmville updates and Nickelback videos, and I can go back to enjoying life.

But until then, I'll remember how grateful I feel right now as I watch this brave woman lead a room full of people who believe in the political process. I'll also remember that I have a deactivate account button. 

See you November 7th , Facebook.

My Ass Hurts. And I Blame Mark Zuckerberg.

I like to live in denial.

Maybe you figured that out after reading the name of this blog. If so, good job. You obviously have keen observation skills. You probably don't live in denial.

But me--I'm a long-term resident.

I'm not really a barista. I don't really have student loans that I've deferred more times than I care to count. I don't really have a drinking problem.

And my favorite: My ass hasn't grown at all since high school.

Denial was my friend but not anymore.

I blame Facebook. And Mark Zuckerberg by proxy. (You hear that, Zuckerberg? Go fuck yourself!)

Facebook has an abundance of amateur photographers. And these people can tag you in photos. Most of which leaves you questioning when you started to look like Charlize Thereon in Monster. Or who your friends are. Or if that Wiccan shit you tried as a Freshman would actually work.

Basically, I realized I'm horribly vain. And now my gym membership is actually getting used. And my ass hurts, because I guess there's actually muscle in there and not jelly as Beyonce had led me to believe. (She may also be on my list.)

I don't think this post has any real relevance. I mainly just want to drink a bottle of wine and eat one of those tacos made out of Doritos.

But I won't. And that my friends, is called willpower.

Suck on that, Zuckerberg.

A Former Whore from Facebook Helps me Inspire my Spouse

For everyone who doesn't know, I love Facebook (you should follow me there, btw). I love my Hannity-obsessed relatives. I love my white-trash classmates. I love the University of Phoenix ads.

And maybe more than anything else, I love the super-whores who somehow through their whoring journey, found the Lord and now they are really excited to share the news with everyone.

Recently, one of these ladies posted a link to an advice article, and since I love giving advice I thought I would share the highlights with all of you. Read the full article HERE.

50 Ways to Inspire Your Husband

1. Initiate Great Sex. 

Vaginal and missionary only.

Good girls don't get on top.

3. Give Him One Night to do Something He Loves. 

Like meth and dudes on Craigslist.

Remember Ted Haggard?

5. Ask Him About His Bucket List.

Yeah, I'm not doing that.

8. Text Him. Reminder: I Believe in You.

I did this. He texted back, 

"Are you stoned?"

9. Make Sure He Feels Respected By You.

So "fucktard" probably isn't a 

great pet name, huh?

17. Initiate Great Sex.

Again? Have you been reading 

"50 Shades of Grey"?

20. Post on His Facebook Wall: "I Love Being Your

 Wife. See me Tonight Regarding This."

Jesus! What if his Nana

 is on Facebook?

21. Gently Communicate with Him About what you Like in Bed, and 

Respond Encouragingly To his Attempts.

IT'S CALLED A CLITORIS! HAVE 

YOU FUCKING HEARD OF IT?

34. Do Something From his To-Do List for Him -- Something

 he'd Rather Have you do Anyway.

Jack off. 

Check!

36. Create a Cheerful Atmosphere when he Comes Home.

Does crying uncontrollably while watching

"The Notebook" count?

38. Discover His Love Language and Become even 

More Fluent in it?

I think it's gonna involve his penis!!

41. Organize or Clean Something in your Home that

 you Know he Finds Messy.

Seriously?
 I need a drink.

44. Initiate Great Sex.

Show me on the doll where your

Stepdad touched you.

And last but not least...

50. If and when he Messes up, Respond with the Kind of

 Grace, Compassion, and Mercy that God gives us. Respond

 in a Way that Communicates, "You're Safe with me -- 

and I'm Not Going to Rehash Your Failures.

This is a Secure Place for you to Grow...

and I Love the Journey with You."

You have to be fucking kidding me? 
Did you really say "if and when"? Who the hell are you married to?

Also, I'm gonna rehash the shit out of your failures. 

Well guys, I think we just stepped into Rick Santorum's America. Thanks former whore from Facebook. I will take these tips into consideration, or I'll put a bullet in my mouth.

Now I'm off to initiate great sex with my boyfriend and then when he does something right, let him know I'm proud of him and respect his authority.

Facebook Fan Page

Just wanted to let everyone know that this blog has a new Facebook page. If you like me here, than you will LOVE me on Facebook.

It will be chock full of all the ridiculous shit that's not quite blogworthy. 

Want to be best friends forever?! Click HERE

Facebook Frenemies

Oh, Facebook.


I know I can't be the only person who gets on the social-networking site and immediately questions every life choice you've ever made if these are the people you consider "friends".

Real Facebook Status

Yep, these are the kind of people who make up my online network. And you guys wonder why I make coffee and talk about adult-baby fetishists.

But besides deleting every single person on my Facebook, there are some things I wish could be outlawed. 

For Example...

• I wish I never had to see another girl quote Marilyn Monroe as their Facebook status. 

Ladies, I don't know if any of you have wikipedia'ed her, but it didn't turn out too well. Plus, basically anything she's ever said is going to make you look 100 percent batshit crazy.

• I wish I never had to see another guy update their status with a "make me a sandwich" or "get in the kitchen" joke.

This isn't even a feminist thing, I'm mainly just worried about your virginity. Plus, if you get to tell me to "get in the kitchen" because I'm a female, I get to tell you go in your room and masturbate with tears because you're a World of Warcraft player.

• I wish I never had to read another heartbroken status from an angsty preteen.

Best give up on love now. How do you feel about cats?

• I wish I never had to have my feed clogged by that one person who posts sucky music videos.

Nickelback? Really? Defriend.

• I wish I never had to see another politically-retarded person give their opinion on politics.

Oh... it's gotta go through Congress and shit. Hopefully they prevent the Obama-approved Holocaust. 

This list could go on and on, and while there is a part of me that wants to just deactivate my Facebook and call it a day, I just can't seem to go through with it.

Oh shit, Rick Santorum has 80,000 likes?

Fuck this shit!

Deactivate Account.