Why? Why? Why? Why? What in the hell were you people thinking?
FarmVille could have been just another stupid Facebook fad. It would have gone away.
For instance, remember the days when everyone used to pick their favorite five something or other? Of course you don’t because after we defeated that bullshit it took years of therapy and hypnosis for us to forget about it. But this time you guys couldn’t buck up and weather the storm with me. You had to go and get all curious. You just had to go and make FarmVille — by far the most pointless of all the pointless Facebook applications — the most visible thing on my home page.
It used to be that I logged onto Facebook to network with my friends. I’d check out their pictures, read their notes and write inane inside jokes from the previous night’s party on their wall. Remember that? Remember innocence?
Nowadays it seems like I can’t log onto Facebook for more than five minutes at a time without having a brain aneurysm.
OH NO! MY FRIEND WHO I HAVEN’T SPOKEN TO IN FOUR YEARS JUST FOUND A LOST BLACK SHEEP ON THEIR FARM! Now I remember why I haven’t spoken to you in four years, twat.
What’s that? My girlfriend just received the “Knock on Wood” ribbon? That’s so funny, because I’m about to go over to her apartment, knock on her wood door and break up with her. Wow, FarmVille, you drove me completely mad and made me break up with the only girl likely to produce that male heir I’ve been wanting so badly. Real bush-league stuff, you guys.
So now I’m single, my Facebook home page is cluttered with garbage, and I don’t even know or care what my friends do anymore. Forget swine flu, people, because this is the real epidemic.
And to those who’ve shown me the way to permanently remove the posts from my news feed, as if that would somehow make this all OK, allow me to extend a jovial “shut up” in your direction. I don’t care if you can remove the posts because when I visit my friends’ pages, the FarmVille paraphernalia is still there. The pictures and the lost animal notifications and the runnels of my own blood splattering across the computer screen — still there. And it doesn’t exonerate them from having the application in the first place.
The only people who haven’t fallen victim to this affront on all things holy are me, my family and my hot sociology teaching assistant. Actually, as I write this, Facebook has just informed me that my cousin joined the FarmVille community. I haven’t even been on this damn thing for more than a minute, and I can feel it already.
I’m getting really woozy now. Soon my head is going to hit the keyboard and I’ll just pass ouadsfkldoikml rgjkmlsagdddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd
Mike Sanders is a junior history major. He can be reached at sanders at umdbk dot com.
