Facebook jail and other signs of the coming apocalypse

I’m almost out of Facebook jail. Three days and four more hours to go. I will most likely be free for 2 hours and then I will be back in Facebook jail for another 30 days. It wasn’t always like this. I used to have a real Facebook life once.

I know I shouldn’t really complain since Facebook is a free site. Well, at least when I created an account back in the foul year  of our lord 2008 Facebook was just a tad more wild wild west. But now being a monster behemoth of an I don’t know what? It has now become a mega conglomerate the likes of which I will hopefully never experience in my own life.

So why does it seem that once a company is freakin’ huge that it loses it soul? But back to this later, for now I’m in Facebook Jail. How did I get here?

Well, a couple of years ago the indigenous peoples of wherever? Started to complain about spammers and privacy and well more privacy and basically I’m online 24 hours a day but I need my privacy and so of course Facebook changed up their page and settings so much it was difficult to keep up and people still complaining about their privacy but I never really understood how you really have the right to complain for something that is free? People will complain about anything just for the sake of complaining and Facebook tries to adapt all the while losing it’s soul as it’s becoming this monolith in much the same way Walmart became this monolith while bringing discount prices to it’s customers and becomes worse and worse to be an employee there?

Now, I do believe, that thee Zuckerbird will have a special place reserved for him in heaven due to the miracle of his supposed creation (those pesky twins, who do they think they are anywayz?) but the bigger a corporation gets the more it seems to be about revenue and it’s shareholders than the actual customers and Facebook definately feels it’s gone in that direction and it doesn’t have the same feel it had back in 2008 when you could friend request anyone and there was no limit on the amount of requests you could send.

From 2008 to 2010 I racked up over 2000 friends and then all of a sudden I started getting put into Facebook jail. At first it started out at, I think, 3 days, then a week, then two weeks, and now for the last two years it’s been 30 freakin’ days. By the time I got up to 30 days I was around 2500 ‘friends’ and now, in this foul year of our lord 2013, my ‘friend’ count is 2673. Now, still this is not too shabby given the amount of 30 day bans in the last two years, but for networking this site absolutely sucks when your in Facebook jail this often.

For example, your at an event, in the land with the big fancy sign, and you meet someone you really hit it off with, but your in Facebook jail so forget that request for friendship, until the ban is over, so when it’s over you send it like 3 weeks later and the person has no idea who you are so they click

NO
!!! 
on the
do you know this person
?
and they’re like no way Jose and next thing you know your in Facebook jail
AGAIN
FOR 30 MORE FUCKING DAYS!!!!
And of course the worst is when you actually know someone in reality and then they deny the request after you had been ultra careful to only send said request to people you actually have met in person and 

BAM!!!
Facebook jail 
FOR 30 MORE FUCKING DAYS!!! 
I honestly think these people are evil at their core so in this case it’s just good to know that I will not be contacting them in the future to work with. It’s like that moment when the hottie you know puts some dufus in the friend zone and you’re going that lucky bastard, I’m not even worthy of being in the Facebook friend zone. 

EVIL!!! 
*NOTE:

NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH THE ABOVE PEEPS IN VIDEO FROM MY INTERNSHIP FOR THEY ARE VERY RIGHTEOUS
IN THEIR AWESOMENESS AS YOU CAN TELL FROM HAVING JUST WATCHED THE VIDEO
🙂

Oh, and here’s a good one, let’s say you want to send a non friend a Facebook message (which you can only do when not in Facebook jail) but now you have to pay one dollar or else it will go in the non important mail or something? Like who even knows that exists? And how many very important messages has someone missed cause a message went to the twilight zone of message boxes? I mean really a freakin’ dollar?

Also, for the privilege of marketing certain posts with more prominence and distinction you can pay even more money WTF??? I posted a link from Amazon about Tuscon milk and I swear for a month I was getting likes on that post. Hell, even Elayne Boosler liked that post.

Another sign of the coming apocalypse is the fact that when you like a group you have to go into the settings and actually click on ‘get notifications’ to get anything from them. How many people actually know about this? And there have been way too many times when I’ve actually forgotten to do this. It makes sense when your internship fan page has over 30,000 likes but only two people will comment on a post. To me this is an amazing example of why does this ‘get notifications’ even exist? If you liked a fan site doesn’t that mean you want to get notifications from them? This ‘get notifications’ confuses me to  no end and as a result I believe it makes it a lot harder for people’s site to get noticed. Even on the level that my internship is I am 99% positive that the reason it does not get the comment traffic it should be getting is because of this ‘get notifications’ option that you have to click on. Completely idiotic that that even exists.

Or the fact that if a ‘friend’ is not a ‘close friend’ the possibility of seeing any posts from them is non existent and even still you have to click ‘get notifications’ and ‘show in news feed’.

What the F’N H??? 

Which is why you can have over 2500 ‘friends’ and yet the same people are the only ones your getting comments from?

In the end, all I can say is Facebook really sucks for networking now, especially in a business where your livelihood is based so heavily on it. And for someone who has put so much time in this site and to have seen it’s degradation through the years as it becomes less and less about networking and just covering your own ass for the sake of more revenue.

In conclusion, Facebook is about as useless as the amount of money I’m investing into it.

And don’t forget to drink your Tuscon Milk!!!
NOW FOR THE LOW LOW PRICE OF 45 DOLLARS:
One Friday, Without the Milk
He always brought home milk on Friday.

After a long hard week full of days he would burst through the door, his fatigue hidden behind a smile. There was an icy jug of Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz in his right hand. With his left hand he would grip my waist – I was always cooking dinner – and press the cold frostiness of the jug against my arm as he kissed my cheek. I would jump, mostly to gratify him after a time, and smile lovingly at him. He was a good man, a wonderful husband who always brought the milk on Friday, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.
Then there was that Friday, the terrible Friday that would ruin every FRIDAY for the rest of my life. The door opened, but there was no bouyant greeting – no cold jug against the back of my arm. There was no Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz., in his right hand, nor his left. There came no kiss. I watched as he sat down in a kitchen chair to remove his shoes. He wore no fatigue, but also no smile. I didn’t speak, but turned back to the beans I had been stirring. I stirred until most of their little shrivelled skins floated to the surface of the cloudy water. Something was wrong, but it was vague wrongness that no amount of hard thought could give shape to.
Over dinner that night I casually inserted,”What happened to the milk? The Tuscan Whole Milk,
1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.?”
“Oh,” he smiled sheepishly, glancing aside,”I guess I forgot today.”
That was when I knew. He was tired of this life with me, tired of bringing home the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. He was probably shoveling funds into a secret bank account, looking at apartments in town, casting furtive glances at cashiers and secretaries and waitresses. That’s when I knew it was over. Some time later he moved in with a cashier from the Food Mart down the street. And me? Well, I’ve gone soy.

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