“My cock is bigger than your asshole.”
A guy that looks like this wanders around my van at night, drunk, saying things I want to share …
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars cash money out of my back pocket if you can prove I’m a LIAR! So kiss my ass.”
“…and my cock is bigger than your asshole, so bring your sister here and I’ll fuck her in the ASS!”
…and who he is talking to? I have no clue.
Back in the seventies I heard Werner Erhard say something everyone now takes for granted, he used the phrase “Social Networking”. I was never sure what Werner Erhard was talking about, but I liked listening to him. It was like listening to jazz: the notes weren’t working together but they weren’t so bad when grouped together. That’s what he sounded like to me. Jazz. His words didn’t make any sense together but I liked the sound of them even though they didn’t make any sense. Just like jazz.
Today ‘Social Networking’ is a standard phrase nearly everyone seems to be trying really hard to emulate, both professionally and individually. That phrase still doesn’t make any sense to me, and now instead of it being a pleasant sort of cacophony, I’m rather numb to the phrase; if I want to be social I yell at skateboarders, or complain to the person nearest me. Or take them out to dinner. Or watch a movie with them. You know socialize.
Isn’t a key factor in “Social” actually people to be ‘Social’ with?
And while it can be argued those are real people one is networking with on the internet, the converse may certainly be argued as well.
I had a rule pretty much I stuck to while ‘facebooking’. The rule was I’d only acknowledge you as a ‘friend’ if I’d actually met you. I had a few exceptions. Every once in a while someone would come along I would have liked to have met.
I’m human. And I do have a need to socialize. Kind of. And poasting something on someone’s website, say for instance facebook, or MySpace, isn’t nearly quite the same as holding hands by a river, or making fun of the people next to you while you eat spaghetti at a restaurant.
Eventually facebook became like breathing someone else’s farts and, while there are those who go in for that sort of thing, I still need to allow myself the experience of saying there are some things I opted not to do. Like being fisted. I reserve the right to say I’m saving that for another time …if ever.
Yes. I don’t do facebook. And I still drive taxi. This is being written nearing the end of summer in a California Beach town. The weather is great. If you ever decide to come visit, Amigos y Amigas, I can show you a good time.
And that’s why I don’t facebook.