Dirty Banana Pants

I’ve just recently joined facebook.  Apparently I’ve been needing to do this for quite awhile.  I’ve had several friends suggest I do MySpace, but I have a mental block when it come to MySpace.  Too pervy, too creepy, and too young for me, I think.  Although, Facebook was originally for the “young”, I just like it better.  None of those stupid skins…or maybe none of my “friends” have them. The part that is interesting to me is the way some people on there feel the need to justify their existence.  They have either changed their profile picture a thousand times in the hopes that the new picture will be a true representation of just how attractive they really are.  Nevermind that they’ve piled on a pound of makeup, worn a tight low-cut blouse, this is REALLY them.  Sure, fine…good for you.  The other type of person is the one who rambles on and on in the “about me” section.  It’s not just a “hi, my name is John.  I am married with 3 kids and eat fruit roll-ups.”  No, it’s more of “just so you know I am soooo happy.  In fact, I’m perfect.  I have met the man/woman/dog of my dreams.  He/she/it is perfect.  We sit around all day and tell each other how perfect we are.  I know, you thought I was a loser, but ha, now you can envy my perfectionism and aspire to be me.” I’m thinking about adding to my “about me” section….I think “living in van, down by the river” is already taken.  Nuts.