Why I Don't Like Sharing Facebook

“... mate, look; Facebook; straight sucks ...”

OK, let me start out by pointing out that this is probably going to be highly hypocritical as the majority of the traffic to this site comes via Facebook, but I've been dining out on the hand that feeds me for twenty-eight years so far, so fuck it.

So for as long as I can remember – and remember I can't remember much – I've had a lessening interest in good old Facebook. As an antisocial bastard, I've always been slightly uneasy with the idea of site, but obviously I opted in due to peer pressure because that never pointed me in the wrong direction before [Line added while proofreading with a beer and zoot]. Over the years it's been good to me, but just recently I've distanced myself from it.

But why Ben?

At first I thought it was due to my selfishness – an attribute I've always used as my major influence in decision making times – has grown, therefore leaving me to care slightly less about the people I went to school with and their troubles and woes. But no, that's always been in the case.

In fact that was part of the attraction of Facebook; to be ever-so-slightly stalking people from your past to see how miserable their lives had become, in turn boosting your own confidence due to your life being marginally better than theirs. We all do it. That's probably due to the no-holds-barred spree of accepting friend requests when joining. We all took the role of an unpopular kid throwing a party; letting anybody that wanted to enter; into your little online social circle, despite the fact you never cared for them and vice versa.

What was great is you could basically watch a relationship blossom and then crumble from the comfort of your PC chair;

• Stacy is in a new relationship with Bob.
• A few loving updates from both, ridiculously over-using emoticons.
• Then one day; Stacy posts “grrrrrrr men!”
• An hour later, Bob posts; “bitchez b trippin”
• The stage is now fully set to watch these two idiots argue it out on good old Facebook for all of us to bask in.

It was all the fun of Jeremy Kyle without the agony of Jeremy Kyle himself. But then something happen, I'm not sure what, maybe people wizened up to sharing every intimate detail of their lives or maybe I've been cut off from those Facebook Friends in a cull. Or maybe, just maybe, users took a shift from sharing their own personal lives to simply sharing other 'content'.

Now, when I go online to check to see if Stacy and Bob ever got back together, or whether or not Bob had finally started paying the child support, I can't find anything in my news feed besides reposts of LADBible, shitty Vines and links to dubious websites filled with random lists like; “Top 10 Child Actors that Turned to Drugs”. So I'm going to take it on myself to explain; nobody cares about this shit people! I already follow LADBible on Twitter, I don't need to some cunt on Facebook reposting every-fucking-thing they post, the only Vine I watch is my own sex-tape and I couldn't give a fuck about those websites that list things in top 10s but make you click to each next page for the continued countdown.

Facebook has gone from 'connecting with friends' to sharing bullshit that's posted elsewhere online. You see, this is where the hypocrisy begins, because the likeliness is you clicked a link on Facebook to get to here, almost making the irony of my argument to ridiculous to bare. But I'll defend myself; I'm sharing my content. Me; Ben Broughton, I [poorly] wrote these words, this isn't the latest online fad that will dwindle in a few months time [this is my eighth year, I'm starting to think it'll never catch on]. But this is an extension of myself I'm sharing with you [kinky] and I'm doing it via Facebook so my friends can connect with it, because they're unlikely to check my blog everyday for updates due to my sporadic updates, I don't even think David B******** has this as his homepage anymore.

You see, I do this because I enjoy it, I share it with others so they can hopefully enjoy it too. I don't beg people to repost or comment because I'd hate for my content to become that very content I despise. Yes, I could simply perform a cull and remove the dead weight from Facebook, but I've much better things to do with my time, like write, play with Fiona or watch paint dry [I'll share the video on Facebook later, if you want to check it out], but more importantly, if I did remove these people from Facebook they may not have stumbled across this blog, and maybe, just maybe, I'm talking some sense to them.

Or maybe I'm not. So in the mean time, if someone could keep tabs on Facebook and let me know when it changes I'd be very happy.

Thanks for your time.

And remember to REPOST, SHARE and COMMENT, you fucking sheep.

Pussy Problems

Right, I've been trying to write this blog for a while now, but keep getting bogged down in ridiculous back-story explaining my past history with cats, which nobody really gives a fuck about, so here it is bullet-pointed;

• Had a dog growing up.
• Got a cat.
• Cat ran away/died.
• Always thought dogs were better.
• Met girlfriend's cat; Anita.
• Anita = awesome.
• Like cats now.

Got it? Good... as there'll be a test at the end.

So, sometime last year I was approached by a friend in need, I resisted my initial temptation to laugh in her face until she cried and instead contemplated whether or not I should help her out. You see, she was leaving red telephone boxes, cups of tea and obese council estate slags for red stripes and white stars on a blue background, Starbucks coffee and obese ghetto-trash whores. And in doing so, leaving behind her beloved cat; Fiona without anyone competent to look after her.

And after weeks of not being able to find anyone competent she resorted to me.

Now, my most recent experience with the feline kind was with Anita; a smooth, self-confident, independent cat, that much like myself has become well versed at relaxing in her later years. Foolishly, I'd started to base on experiences with Anita and translate them to all cats, so looking after Fiona would be easy.

Me and Anita; relaxing like old timers.

Wrong.

You see, Fiona, is much, much younger than Anita, plus they have different backgrounds; Anita; family cat, Fiona; rescued cat from the RSPCA. Therefore, much like people, they have developed different attributes. I was expecting a sweet old dear that I could feed Werther's Originals to, but instead got an ASBO teen with behavioural problems.

Maybe I'd bitten off more than I could chew, much like a greedy Fiona.

Me and Fiona; I'm keeping a keen on her mischievous ways.

.

Misadventures of Fiona Top 3;

3) I promised my friend one thing; upon returning Fi; she would be a cold blooded killer. Yet with the combination of Fi being a house cat and me living in a first floor flat, letting her out to 'hunt' isn't a viable option... and sadly I don't have a mouse infestation [look at me bragging]. Although there was a butterfly that had taken up residence on my hall wall for about a month, I'd hit it with a feather duster one, thinking it was dead and it simply flew to the other wall and remained there for a few weeks. Then, inexplicably, it came down and tried to make a break for it through my bedroom window. Unluckily for it, Fi was currently perched there watching the world go by. What followed was the greatest fight between a cat and a butterfly that I'd ever seen! Although my net curtain got ruined and there's still butterfly membrane pasted to my window.

2) While watching the TV with my BFAM and girlfriend, Fi was sat on the table grooming herself [this is the usual, 85% of her day is self-grooming], yet when we turned to admire her and her awesomeness we soon discovered she wasn't quite grooming herself. She was instead dipping her paw into my girlfriend's glass of Baileys and then licking the creamy alcohol drink off her paw. Wait until her Muslim mother finds out.

1) Within the first 15 minutes of us being left alone for the first time, I'd nipped out to the shop to purchase some alcoholic beverages, upon returning I couldn't find Fiona anywhere. I searched for about half an hour, to no avail, all the windows were closed, there was no way she could get out, yet she was no where to be found. A quick shake of her treats soon had her running to me from her [still unknown] place of hiding. 
 

… obviously there's more, but sharing 'those' stories would have Fi back at the RSPCA in no time and we can't have that, seeing as we've grown somewhat attached to our feline friend. Yes; whenever she answers natures call we have to quarantine that part of the flat, yes; her dog-like attributes come out everytime we eat and she stares longingly at our meals, yes; she still tips over bins due to curiosity... but curiosity never hurt a cat, yes; I'm woken every morning with a cold wet nose prodding me in the face because it's feeding time... but in all seriousness could you stay mad at this face...

Fiona; "I don't know what that smell is, the bin was already like that... and isn't it time for food?"

So yeah, cats are cool, especially Anita and Fiona, think otherwise and me and my gals will come after you and we'll find out who the real pussy is. 

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Quiz

What pet did Ben have growing up?
a) A Dragon with Leukaemia.
b) A Dog.
c) A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

What happened to Ben's family's cat?

a) He never had one, it was a figment of his imagination.
b) It became a Hollywood star.
c) It ran away or died.

Ben used to think that?

a) People with darker skin weren't created equal.
b) Dogs were better than cats.
c) His biological father would return.

Anita... is whom?

a) Ben's long-suffering girlfriend's cat.
b) A metaphor for peace.
c) All of the above.

Write your answers on a postcard and post into your nearest bin. Competition closes 14/09/2024.