Facebook: Confirming That Your Ex is Still a Douche

Facebook answers the question, “What ever happened to…?” This social networking service has given us the ability to see what our first loves have been doing in the last ten years as easily as last night’s take home. If you’ve never felt like you were unable to get over the person that took your virginity, prepare to say, “What the fuck was I thinking?” as you scan through their timeline.

It’s no secret that our generation, raised on MySpace, Twitter, and physically superficial review sites like RateMyFace.com, has been programmed to give out too much information. Almost every thought is published to the internet for the world to see. Hoping that our status like “Mornings suck,” “Traffic is really bad today,” and “Just took a great shit!” will be ‘Like’d and be commented on by many of our “friends” like a validation for every thought.

Chances are this is backfiring and you don’t even see it.

Imagine your Facebook from your first significant other’s point of view.

  • Your pictures suggest you are;
    • Narcissistic with an abundance of “selfies” and post-workout photos.
    • An alcoholic as you are constantly in a bar and/or drinking. Be selective with your photos. You do not need a picture of you and every drink you have. You’re not documenting a PSA for alcohol.
    • Obsessed with food and filters.
  • Your status imply you are;
    • Insane. Whether it’s your “woe is me” depressive cry for help, your “fuck you” post about how everyone is an idiot, or your “OMG! Life is AMAZING!” jealousy push, the summary of these makes you look crazy. If you’re an emotional person that says when you’re happy, then mad, then relieved, then pissed – don’t be surprise if someone thinks you’re bipolar. Don’t write a status update every time you’re upset. Ruining 500 peoples’ day with your negative energy is far less satisfying than calling up your best friend and ranting for five minutes.
    • Needy. Nobody cares about that poem you poured out, that necklace you made, or that you had a cheeseburger for lunch instead of a salad that you feel super guilty about. And if you’re looking for feedback, another status demanding attention followed by calling your audience “bitches,” or saying the status is for your “real friends,” or some other pronoun to debase isn’t exactly making us want to appease your inner diva. Try calling a friend. If you have one.
    • An idiot. Did you sleep through English class? We graduated from the same school and yet you clearly don’t remember grammar and punctuation.
    • Morally corrupt. If you are posting your opinion prepare for the possibility of more rejection than ‘Likes.’ Not everyone thinks abortion is good and guns are bad.
  • Your About section indicates;
    • If you are contributing part of society. CEO of Fuckall isn’t witty, clever, or a sore in the establishment (whatever that is supposed to mean). It means you don’t have a job.
    • If you ever left from your hometown. Like even to the next town over. Seriously, still living with mom and dad, huh?
    • If you are available. Thank you for letting us know that “It’s complicated.” You have just posted a giant red flag we can avoid now.
  • Your Friends let us know;
    • If you have a grasp on reality. You do not have 5,000 or even 500 friends. Unless you are in a band, an actor, or have a profession that requires fans or social connections to excel, you only have other people who have the same urge to over share and cyber-stalk as you do. You are not famous for being famous. Paris Hilton and other real socialites have filled those positions.
  • Your ‘Like’s make you look like a;
    • Creep. Facebook tells us every time you ‘Like’ some underage, topless, six-pack, well-endowed model. This is for both genders. Everyone likes attractive people, but no one wants to be reminded that you have a thing for girls in thongs bent over wearing clown make up.

Facebook has saved me from wondering “What if…” My first boyfriend that cheated on me still cheats on his wife (or at least wants to). My former finance got fat. And the love of my life still does drugs and fucks every pretty little thing he can. Going on Facebook is like a refresher course on why it didn’t work out.

Note: I’m not condoning this to you creepers that check out your exes page everyday to see if he’s still hanging out with that slut. You need to check yourself into therapy, not stare at a screen for hours and debate if he’s started sleeping with someone else. He has.

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