Monday, September 5, 2011

Underwear, The Unabomber & Too Much Information


I have succumbed to the world of Facebook. I said it was a big fat waste of my time. I lied. I have entered a world made of glass. The people I know live in my private fish bowl. It all begins with friend no. 1. Ok, that's fun. Then, you dare to ask another to accept you. Is it a big whoopie doo if they reject you? It multiplies. It grows like kudzu. You now have friends you don't really know. It's also super convenient. I never have to see you anymore, but I know all about you. I'm watching you. I may not of seen or talked with you for 10 years. It doesn't matter. I now know that you like to munch on edamame beans and that you dress up like Liberace. It's addictive. I feel like I'm smoking again. I wonder what so and so is doing or saying about so and so. My very own trashy magazine.

I don't have to go out again except for groceries to stay alive. I can type in my underwear. Oh, don't wince people. Trailer people know what I'm talking about. It starts innocently with walking barefoot in your camper. Then, one day you suddenly realize that you stay in your underwear 60% of the time (or more)while living in your sardine can. It's a common phenomenon. David and I eat cereal that way, and have serious conversations in our underwear. This is where Facebook comes in handy. I can now officially stay in my underwear 24/7 unless going out on a errand. I might just start ordering groceries online and everything else except for clothes. I won't need them anymore.

Is this how the Unibomber got started?

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