My intention is not to…wait, I mean, I do not intend…no, no, uh, ahem…
It is not my intent to add to the growing body of facebook diss chorus (get it? DISS CHORUS? LIKE DISCOURSE? DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE? THAT’S WHAT WE IN THE COMEDY BUSINESS CALL GO-WHULD), but I have several of these facebook friend requests and am having a pickle of a time knowing how to react. Not for the reasons you probably expect, mind you, and please do not expect to get some clever POKE ME joke, because that ship has sailed.
Um, god, how do I describe it? Maybe I should just pull out the hand puppets and have a dialogue. That usually works, and that way I don’t have to actually utter the pointy words in my brain, but the funny lady with the pills will still know what I mean and will send me an email with a link where I can download my diagnosis and maybe do some shopping in the meantime at GAP.COM.
Scene – Two hand puppets in a restaurant or bar. The Right Hand is studying the Left Hand intently while taking microscopic sips of a tiny glass of wine. In fact, with each sip, the glass seemingly becomes more saturated with wine. In front of the Left Hand are three empty martini glasses and a broken beer bottle.
Right Hand - Could you maybe not look at every girl in here?
Left Hand - How else am I going to find THE ONE?
Right Hand - You've already found THE ONE.
Left Hand – How else am I going to find ALL THE OTHER ONES?
Hmm. No, that’s not it at all. Damn.
Being as how I am no closer to a resolution let me just come out and say what the issue is. Facebook wants me to be serious about Facebook, and it’s hard to be serious about it because it’s like I’ve been down this road before. So when it asks me how I know Greg, OF COURSE I am going to say that we ‘HOOKED UP,’ because how else do you respond to that sort of question?
But then the next 5 people on the list are women that I actually do want to sleep with, and so when I respond that we ‘HOOKED UP,’ it’s funny, but also a bit uncomfortable because, well, because…
Scene – Two hand puppets in a restaurant or bar. The Right Hand is studying the Left Hand intently while nibbling at a plate of garden greens. In fact, the plate now has more food on it than when it arrived. In front of the Left Hand are three empty martini glasses and a broken beer bottle.
Right Hand – My son wants one of those roller-skate birthday parties.
Left Hand – Can he skate backwards?
Right Hand – I don’t think so.
Left Hand – Bad idea, then.
Right Hand – Why?
Left Hand – Because girls only skate with boys who can skate backwards. Everyone knows that.
Right Hand – Hee. Oh, I forgot about that.
Left Hand – You’ll just be setting him up for a lifetime of compensating for low self-esteem by turning to alcohol and womanizing and self-portraits and social networking and, well, so I’ve heard.
Right Hand - Shee-yit.*
(*It is like I am in an alternative universe, because for some reason every time Microsoft Word thinks that when I type shee-yit, what I mean to type is SHEEP-DIP, and believe me, WORD, if I wanted to type out SHEEP-DIP I WOULD TYPE OUT SHEEP-DIP, REGARDLESS OF THE FACT I HAVE NO POOPING IDEA WHAT SHEEP-DIP ACTUALLY MEANS. MAYBE YOU MEAN SHEEP-DP, YOU WANKER.)
I remember back in the olden days, if someone were to say, ‘DO YOU MEAN SHEEP DIP?’ you would have to go to the library, check out several different books in the reference section and thumb through countless pages before finding out what SHEEP DIP is. So back in those days, you would in fact hear a lot of things that you would never bother to look up, and you would be happy and gas was only 88 cents per gallon. Nowadays, of course, if someone so much as insinuates SHEEP DIP, you have three separate browsers open learning all about the history of SHEEP DIP, and you are NOT happy, no you are not.
I guess what I am trying to say is that if you have recently requested my friendship on Facebook, I am going to say that we slept together. I hope you are okay with that.
12 comments:
The only reference point I have to sheep-dip is an old Far Side cartoon where people at a party are holding sheep by the ankles and dipping them into bowls presumably full of dip.
I was about to request to be your Facebook friend, but now I think maybe you should request to be mine so that I'm in control of the "how we know each other" section.
Do sheep have ankles?
what's sad, is i don't even know how to request someone be my friend.
oh, wait, we were talking about FACEBOOK.
i think sheep have shankles.
Sheep Dip is also a single malt whisky that I've had the pleasure of trying in a past life in Scotland. Sadly, it tastes similar to how I'd imagine a sheep insecticide/fungicide would taste.
Also, the comet/lightning/firework picture blew my mind. I'm still holding out for the Godzilla/Mothra/UFO picture.
The point is, it was SAFE.
well, safe in the sense that it was fairly conservative, because you always sort of want to 'play it safe' the first time you hook up with a guy from facebook. nothing fetishy, you see. just normal man on man relations the way god intended.
Brando, if that's the case we should have facebooked long ago. Because, for whatever reason, most of my friends say that I've slept with them.
And sheep definitely have shankles.
yeah, my future facebook friends are going to be disappointed in my newfound chastity. They're gonna be all, 'YOU HOOKED UP WITH EVERYONE ELSE IN YOUR NETWORKS, HOW COME YOU AIN'T HOOKED UP WITH ME?'
and i'll have to pull that old, "Um, it's because i, uh, respect you too much."
and they'll be all, "I DON'T WANT YOUR RESPECT, I WANT YOUR SHANKLES!"
and i'll be all, "oh, you. you're so silly."
and their head will explode.
Brando, I have a visual that I think will aid this discussion. I'll post it tomorrow. Until then contemplate this...
Do robotic Superbowl fans dream of electric sheep-dip?
well damn. now i'm thinking i need to unfriend you and then send another friend request. just cuz.
and facebook is only good for one thing: scrabble baby! QI rules all.
yes, scrabble on facebook sounds like the internet has finally achieved its purpose ;)
darling man. the internet achieved its purpose when it delivered porn for free to the masses. i would have thought a learned man such as yourself would have known that! you're silly!
Post a Comment