As I write this, my internet is down. Yeah, I know you are reading this and thinking, “But this is a blog on the internet, how is your internet down?” Well, I was sad enough to open Microsoft Word and type my thoughts down in frustration. I then copied and pasted the words into a blog when the internet decided to try again.
I get really frustrated when the internet is down. I guarantee half the people who just read that sentence thought, ‘sexually frustrated?’ and thought they were being original. You weren’t and you’re not. It just pisses me off that it happens when you are actually busy working on something like a collaborative script with someone and you are conversing over the medium of Skype about it and then the internet goes ‘Ehh...’
Useless. Bloody useless.
Although I like the fact that sometimes it happens for only 20 seconds and it makes my blood boil. Suddenly I think the world owes me something for this amazing creation that can give me any knowledge on any subject in about 5 seconds. When it doesn’t, I am stunned and angry and generally mocking its ability.
Okay so there is a lack of anything funny so far I grant you. So I shall talk to you about Facebook. And in particular Facebook Chat.
Jason Timms pops up. ‘Hi.’ Fuck off Jason Timms. We never spoke at school. I only accepted you because I was vaguely intrigued as to whether you would end up as a binman in Staines like I thought you might. ‘What you up to?’ I said fuck off Jason Timms! If I wanted to talk to you I would have replied by now. My status circle thing is green which means I am here and I can see it. I just don’t want to talk to you.
‘Fancy coming out next week?’ Jason! Please! Shut up! You know what? Fine. I shall respond. Just to reject your invitation. ‘No. Fuck off.’ Then I press enter. Jason Timms has gone offline. What!? Bullshit. I call bullshit that Jason Timms has gone offline Facebook. Everyone else is still online. All 62 people with nothing better to do than be online and on Facebook. Bullshit would he go offline before I have verbally berated him. No I’m not having that. ‘Fuck you Jason.’
Jason Timms is back online. ‘What?’ Ah crap. Thanks Facebook. Now Jason Timms, ballbag though he is, wants me dead. Thanks a lot Facebook. I’ll go offline. Oh a comment on a picture! Oh Facebook. I’m barely in it and it isn’t about me. Surely you can see that. They are having a conversation about how immense that night was. I don’t even know three of the people talking. STOP SENDING ME NOTIFICATIONS ON THAT ONE SODDING PICTURE.
In fact, if I like something when bored, that is not an invitation for two other people to have a chat on that status that goes on the whole night. I don’t want 22 notifications telling me they are still talking. Who is Dave Westbury and why does he want to be my friend? I don’t care if he drives the uni bus. I don’t get the uni bus. REJECTION. Ooh a message. No! No! Fuck off Jason Timms! Yes, I went offline, because I realised you were going to be a tool. Oh no. You don’t want me at your party anymore. Boo fucking hoo.
A notification. Ooh two notifications actually. Girls! Stop talking on that sodding picture. Ooh an event invitation. Jason. Seriously. You just told me how much you don’t want me there. Don’t go inviting me just to piss me off. What the-? You have invited 363 people? You’re whole friends list? For pre-drinks then town? Do you want your house intact by the end of it? And how are you planning on taking 363 people to town? Mate, it’s Bournemouth not a blitzkrieg. I’ll click maybe attending. That means ‘No’ 90% of the time, if you’re wondering. Another friend request? Dave! Dave Westbury! What the hell? You know I just rejected you. I’m going to reject again. And next time the police will be getting a call. Don’t go adding me again you freak. Go to bed. You shouldn’t be up now anyway. What’s this? Two page requests? One group request?
No, I do not want to be a fan of Rocky Balboa. No, I do not want to become a fan of dead baby jokes. No, you will not change your name to Frankenstein if myself and 999,999 others join this group. Stop being a tit and grow up. What does the group say? You’re 32. Dude, seriously. I don’t think that’ll make me think you’re ‘cool’ or a ‘wacky kinda guy’ who ‘appeals to the kids’. I’ll just think you’re a tool. Like when that 50 year old bloke skateboards down the high street with his top off and Oakley sunglasses. I don’t think ‘Ooh nice. That looks like a fun mode of transport. Maybe I’ll give it a go. ’ No, I tend to think, ‘Cock.’
Generally he’ll then stop his skateboard having gone past me. He’ll turn and remove his shades. “Is that you? You want to school with my son I think. Jason Timms?”
Seriously Facebook. Fuck you.
The internet still isn’t back up as I finish this...but this has been very cathartic. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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And that is what I wrote last night.
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