Pros and Cons of coping with the tumultuous pitfalls of Social Media single-hood.
I know. Its day 4 and you’re still waiting for that flirty blonde you met at the club to add you. Right now all you see is two things: 1) She hasn’t seen her husband since she moved out. 2) Her BFF was nowhere near as cute as she was. In every man’s life there comes a time when he must come to grips with reality. In any other circumstance your life would seem not as pathetic at the sheer mention of never having never indulged, but you no longer have the excuse. The last 15 years of social media has expanded leaps and bounds beyond what has ever been speculated to have been thought possible, and every man who wears glasses watches the news. Right? Enter the Facebook prowler. A Facebook prowler is he who delights in the idle chit chat of hope. A seemingly endless lottery of hoping and trying, only to be duped by the faith in his own disappointment; 3-5 times a week. It seems illogical. Everywhere you look you see the happy couples; women walking alongside of men far out of their league, holding filthy hands, and carrying diseases. And where does that leave you? What faith you ask? Well the faith that someday a worthy member of the opposite sex will find their way to your doorstep just in time for Top Ramen. Deep inside you understand its all Mark Zuckerman’s fault. You’ll never be as as lucky, as white, or as successful as that is. Even though you Sprechen the Dutch. Bad news: It is now day 8. You’ve been ignoring your Dog, watching Seinfeld reruns, and you’ve purchased two Joni Mitchell albums back to back within 24 hours. But sooner or later your mom tells you to its time to cut the grass, and then it hits you. The main page layout looks just like a big blue vanity, and you’ve had it. You’re tired of the life sapping monotony of endless routine this unimaginable crap chute was never worth. And then it happens…thats right, you delete. And then its off to the url’s with you. You buy the first ‘I beat Facebook’ tee you see(in blue), and then everything else was less real. Approximately 6-8 weeks later you forget about the entire lax and take it as alcohol. After that you go to the library and sit down in your usual space, when you find someone there…and whats this, a young lady. Green eyes and all, just like you like. Now the conversation may make you late, but its far from where you were in the abyss, or where you’ve ever been for that matter. But even if you would did keep listed in social slavery against your better wills, one can never be sure where to meet and greet all of waking life’s beauty at any given time…but don’t take my word for it. Easier sent. Right? Robin Kale.