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I’ve been known to be somewhat of a dirty curmudgeon, as my writing style falls somewhere between a cross of Andy Rooney and a trucker with Tourette’s syndrome. Once again, I believe I am justified in my cynicism when it comes to people determined to narrate the lives of their children through Facebook posts.

Too many of us live and breathe through social media, which is fine to a degree. I personally spend a good deal of time each day on Facebook, and have many friends with whom I care for and have a genuine desire to see what they’re up to. However, many of those people tend to drone on endlessly about their children throughout the day. I normally wouldn’t mind, but the problem is that I’ve met most of their kids, and they’re plain awful. The majority are loud, crying, fuck trophies that I can’t stand, so why am I forced to read the chronicles of them taking a bath?

18 years, multiplied by 365 days, times your 1 post every 15 minutes equates to 630,720 reasons why I would consider taking my own life.I’ve done my best this year to try and avoid the Facebook narcissism that endlessly infiltrates my news feed, only to find that it is physically impossible, thus the third installment of why I can’t stand humanity.

I think I have finally worn out the girls! They asked if we could just stay home all day. Awe…

Of course your girls are worn out. Those two sperm-induced crotch droppings are obese even by adult standards. I bet they get winded simply walking up a set of stairs, wheezing like asthmatic chain-smokers. Hell, I’ve seen them sweat while eating the gravy and fudge you shove down their homely throats all day. At least when they are home, they can expel their energy playing video games or developing ways to use mini donuts as suppositories.

Made cake and icing with 3 “Helpers”…once they realized the powdered sugar was sugar not flour they were licking it off the counter! I raised a bunch of wild animals….they take after their Daddy lol

Oh, come on. They take after you, Mommy, lest you remember the night at Joey Kremer’s place when you snorted more cocaine off of the countertop than a Columbian cartel could ship into the country over the course of a year. I know that the medical school of thought is that sucking white powder off of countertops is a gene that you attain from your father’s side of the family, but in this case, the tables were turned. I’m sorry to bring up your former, pitiable drug problem, but I can’t believe you could even cook with powdered sugar, flour, or baking soda without thinking about Joey’s party. Damn, you were so horny that night…

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Mr. Bernie starts preschool tomorrow! I hope he makes it thru the whole year. Third time is the charm right? lol

Preschool??? Didn’t you just post on Facebook that he celebrated his sixth birthday? How pathetic is it that this kid couldn’t make it through one, more or less two years of playing with other kids and taking a daily nap? Had you not mentioned the “three’s a charm” myth or posted every waking moment of your groin gremlin’s actions, I wouldn’t have realized that you gave birth to a future dumb ass. You better teach this kid how to dig a ditch, because it looks like it’ll become his only revenue stream twelve years from now.

Nicky made up a joke today: “What’s a bear in the water?” ….. “Underbear!”

Look, I kind of know funny, and that simply sucked. Here’s a joke: What’s red, white, black, and can’t fit through a revolving door? …A nun with a harpoon through her head. Teach Nicky that little gem so he can spout it off at the worst possible moment during catechism and watch the nun ring his knuckles with a ruler. If you want to write about your brat, I would be more interested in a post about a nun beating the shit out of your mouthy little asshole.

Where was this neck pillow thing when I was nursing the kids??? I could have nodded off without getting a sore neck!! Guess I’ll have to have another baby!!

You would be content falling asleep with a bare tit hanging out and a newborn in your arms? Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you to the 2012 Mother of the Year! More importantly, YAY!!! One more child means that your 692 friends will all get to enjoy another 18 years of reading your horseshit rhetoric on Facebook. Let’s see, 18 years, multiplied by 365 days, times your 1 post every 15 minutes equates to 630,720 reasons why I would consider taking my own life.

I need alittle help from my Facebook friends… I am looking into booking a Disney trip for 2012 and don’t know if I should use a travel agency or just book everything ourselves? When I tried doing it myself the meal package wasn’t free. Is that normal?

First, “alittle” is not a word, dipshit. Second, please don’t go to Disney. A trip outside of your mundane existence provides enough stupid Facebook fodder for a lifetime of posts that nobody gives a fuck about. Another thing; do travel agencies even exist anymore? The internet is surprisingly sophisticated. With one push of a button I can book a trip, get a hooker, or even have pet medication sent to my house (often times, from the same site). It isn’t 1981 anymore. Whether or not you know it, there are a couple of other websites out there besides Facebook that you have access to. You should be able to figure out on your own if an all-you-can-eat adventure to the Magic Kingdom is available for free so you can gorge yourselves without financial consequence as the entire family projectile vomits on Space Mountain.

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Joey quote of the day (from yesterday) “I changed my life. I changed from a normal life to a Star Wars life.”

I don’t get it. It’s not that I don’t get Robbie’s quote. I understand that kids say stupid shit (although, at 15 years old, this quote will go down as the precise moment when Robbie solidified his own virginity for the next 22 years). What I don’t understand is why you had to add “from yesterday” to your post? Nobody gives a flying fuck what day Robbie decided to make a statement that would lead to a lifetime of awkward dates and almost certain celibacy. You could have told me that it was today’s nugget or even prophesized that this infinite wisdom would get thrown our way tomorrow. If you ever want to be a grandmother, I would suggest slapping a little sense into a certain someone: yourself.

Much like a DUI machine to start your car, I am determined to develop a device that you have to blow into in order to post anything on Facebook. I don’t exactly know the logistics of what the device will measure, but I can assure you that once I figure it out, 60% of posts will be instantly eliminated. Facebook is a sudden institution that can’t be stopped, but, with the right resources, can certainly be contained. This guy is hell-bent on becoming the anti-Zuckerberg and anything you can do to help me would be appreciated “alittle.”

Stop Posting About Your Kids on Facebook, Part 1
Stop Posting About Your Kids on Facebook, Part 2
Stop Posting About Your Kids on Facebook, Part 3

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