#40 Never Have I Ever: Called someone out (who I know personally) on Facebook
Foreplay: I loathe the "Suggestions" feature on Facebook. It has never been kind to me. It's alerted former employers, random schoolmates, and, most recently, inquisitive family members to my profile. And with my plethora of morally questionable photos, status updates, and wall postings I am not exactly the profile you want to bring home to mom.
However, this particular case centers around this one bastard who went to high school with me. We weren't friends. I don't think we spoke more than 10 words to each other. But we shared a couple classes during our four years in hormonal Hell.
This dude friended me on Facebook a few months ago. I barely remembered him but Facebook told me that we had 54 friends in common. Well, shit. I guess I have to accept his friend request when it gets into the double-digits.
His profile picture was a self-portrait of him releasing a mouthful of skunky smoke. Classy. He'd post trite, misspelled musings and rants every now and then on his status that would then show up on my News Feed, most of which went ignored.
But just a few months ago, he started throwing out the word "faggot" and taunting the men of the rock/indie/hipster fashion genre. He even went as far as to give himself the middle name "Mendontwearskinnyjeans" on Facebook. Riiiight...
I've been meaning to defriend him this whole time but never really set about it since... well, I never thought about him.
The Down and Dirty: Shoveling food into my gaping maw at my desk (read: lunch), I took a few minutes to mill about the Internet at my leisure -- something I hadn't done recently. It was like emerging from a dank cave after a decade and rediscovering sunlight -- so much stimulation that it almost hurt. Oh, it hurt so good!
Until your corneas burn off or something.
While opening Facebook, the bastard's status update was at the top of the list. This, like Camus' sun, was a sign. I'll let the photo below do the rest of the talking.
The Afterglow: Comment. Defriend. Cackle loudly. Done and done.
It was like he was asking for an ass whopping. Or should I say ass "whoopen".
Welcome to the Pwned Shop where the special of the day is a brand spankin' new can of Whoop-Ass. Prepare to be served.