I had heard all these bad things. People will know all your dirty laundry. (Note to self: check for racing stripes.)
The government will read your posts. They will collect a dossier of all your naughty habits. (Note to self: develop some naughty habits.)
Bad things will happen.
As it turns out getting a face book page was my last resort to keep up with family who never calls, emails or texts. I set one up two weeks ago. I don’t know how to do much but I can “like” comments or pictures and I can leave snarky remarks. I think they only allow the snarky ones or maybe that’s just my circle of snarky friends.
I waited patiently. So far it appears that no one knows my bra size. Nor do they know about my secret tattoo. I am hoping the government doesn’t tell the beloved husband how much time I spend on shoe websites hovering my pointer around the “buy” button. Shhhh!
I am waiting for the cataclysmic event to come and destroy my world.
What I found were some funny pictures of friends and family. There were cryptic messages that I don’t quite understand.
Posters have a language of their own. I wonder if the Rosetta Stone has an app for that.
I am not sure about the government but someone is spying on me. The ads I get on face book are for products that I googled or viewed somewhere. Someone is keeping tabs.
There are also headlines about a lie Ellen (DeGeneres) told. I wonder if she can see me on her fb page. Somewhere along the way I must have lied about something. I probably told someone they didn’t look fat and now it’ll be all over face book. Dang! (No, it wasn’t you. You never look fat.)
Of course I don’t understand why there is a singles’ advertisement on my page. Millions of singles are waiting to mingle with me. Really? Boy will they be disappointed. (Note to self: Get a more interesting life.) Maybe I should check with the beloved husband. He may know something I don’t.
My next goal is to figure out Candy Crush. I hear it’s highly addictive so I am a little scared of it. I get addicted to internet stuff really easily, just as Mr. Free Cell.