Effin Facebook Flirtations.

I know that alot of my posts have facebook in the topic. Thats because its more than a social community, it's a tool that I use a lot less than its full capabilities. It works great for advertising to a targetted crowd, to learn alot through more mature applications and initiate discussions on the more important topics of life. Its another topic entirely that I use it for the same reason you use it for; to check out what other people are doing, browse through their pics with as judgementality your curious mind can muster and to over use lexulous and text twirl. Texas hold 'em is forgivable for being over used but one inch out of my darned firewall.

Anyway, all of that is beyond the point. Here is where my post actually starts. So two days ago, this guy sends me one of those random messages on facebook. I embarassingly admit I did allow the "Are you Interested" application after I received some notification from it. But it wound up one of those that lie forgotten like the Astronomy application, the Dilbert/ Garfield comics, the daily horoscope and the visual bookshelf and others you initially think are brilliant but later ignore as much as you would that mouse on your desk. What mouse? See, you don't even realize it's there!

Did you notice I'm in a digress-y mood today? :-D Anyways, so the message goes something like: "I found you in are you interested which made my mind go crazy seeing you looking all hot and sexy, sugar, so would you party sometimes on the weekend sugar...? Let me know more about you when approved me to be one of your friends though."

I usually delete these with one of those disgusted I-just-ate-something-too-healthy look smeared on my face, but the fact that he called me sugar just pissed me off some enough extra notches. Guys randomly calling me baby or sugar or honey makes me wanna stick a fork up their arse. You get the same feeling? If you are a guy reading this, I'm almost sure you do, heh.

Anyways my conspiring mind clicked on his profile- which you can see for sometime after someone sends you a message. And right there, very obvious and apparent- his relationship status said he was in one with so & so. Now these kind of men have to be tied up to the thorniest cactus in this Kuwaiti desert, stripped so he'll dehydrate, given some LSD to induce hallucinations, and have a few people put on the most horrenduous evil masks you can find and interrogate them on how exactly is that appropriate. Am I being harsh? Really? I just don't want that girl to be me. Or you. Or any of us. It's the first step to the next step, to something worse. Now, I'm oscillating on whether I should send the message to his chic. Yep, I'm quite a feministic biatch when that side of me is provoked.



I hate long posts, and I don't do them, but this blog is my punching bag for the day.