Facebook is starting to make me itch, what with its infestation of high heels and sneaker spam, not to mention the scantily clad women advertising scattered-ass to and fro across the home page. Rather than your favorite social media hangout, it's turning into the easiest place to catch a digitally transmitted disease. Kind of like the seedy warehouse parties you used to run through as a teenager, but different. Don't click on anything!
It's hard to pinpoint exactly when the spam really started. There has always been an undertone of viruses to social media because, duh, people fall for anything. I've scratched my head in confusion at friends tagged in photos from girls who look like they belong on the wrong side of Colfax and like it there and wondered, just how does it happen?
Can't folks catch a clue that Sexy Sarah and Exotic Ebony aren't the flat-chested chicks from freshman year who have obviously been drinking their milk? It's fucking spam! Jeez. It wasn't the biggest problem in the world at first, to each his own hacking. But now we all have to contend with the blazing glow in the dark Nikes and sparkly glittery bullshit that come with Sarah and Ebony, because word to Mark Zuckerburg, Facebook provides zero privacy.
Hay-zus, America. Can't somebody get a geek on the line over there in Silicon Valley and fix this shit? I'm sick of looking at it. I come to Facebook to gawk and pontificate and stare at pictures of my gorgeous nephew. His baby Nikes don't glow in the dark, either. Where is the social-media version of the Centers for Disease Control? Facebook is looking real Ebola-like around the edges.
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In the meantime, treat the site like the stranger who has questionable hand-washing habits. Don't touch anything. Observe from afar, use your inside voice and pay attention. It's like the kissing parties that used to go down in middle school. We all knew who attended because they all had mono the next week.
When you see a nefarious link on a friend's wall, or even your own, don't even think about touching it without the proverbial electronic condom. And if you do happen to get smited by the Facebook Gods and get hacked, change your password and immediately wash your hands.
As for Zuckerberg and the legion of geeks: Come out from under the hoodies and hacky-sacks and get this shit right. I've got a gay friend getting married in June, and he will not stand for competing for tagging rights with ugly shoes. Absolutely not.