Friday, February 3, 2012

I'm Onto You and The First Douchebag Friday!

I've written about defriending (I am aware the "official" term is unfriend but I prefer de- as the prefix) before and I want to update to say that yes, I still get defriended all the time. One of my best friends from home recently ended our friendship via Facebook and I freaked out. Apparently, he did it so I would send him one of my defriending form letters so all was well. I actually do remember promising over martinis that I would send one but forgot this when I noticed he was no longer my friend three months later.

This lag in realization will never happen to me again thanks to Unfriend Finder! Please picture me presenting this to you like I am in an infomercial.

Tired of finding out you are no longer friends with someone and wondering how long this has been going on?

Sick of trying to determine if someone defriended you or if they deactivated their Facebook?

Wondering what triggered your ex-friend to remove you?

Worry no more when you install Unfriend Finder! Unfriend Finder sends you easy-to-read notifications when someone deactivates their profile or removes you from their friend list! It even tells you what friend requests are pending so you can know if you are in Friend Purgatory.

Want to know more? Follow this link in the next ten minutes for installation instructions on Chrome or Firefox and receive a BONUS friend totally free* (shipping and handling not included).

Since I installed this extension on Chrome three days ago, it has already brought me much joy and use. The first day I had it installed, a kid from my hometown (who had a rat tail growing up) deactivated his profile. Last night, a girl from my hometown - one J. Hayden for all you Burgher's - defriended me. Unfriend Finder politely let me know with a picture of J.Hay and a note that said, "J.Hay is no longer in your friendlist" which is much nicer than "J.Hay hates your slut ass and has ended your friendship because you have a hamburger face, shitbag." This is what I would've programmed the app to say but to each their own.


Unfriend Finder in action
You may notice that there are 3 Unfriends now...someone deactivated their profile WHILE I was screen-capping!


While Old Bexxx would've promptly sent out a Defriend Survery, New Bexxx is much more adult and just blocks people. I figure that if they don't want to be friends, they can't be privy to all the HILARIOUS comments I leave on Facebook. I was also annoyed with J.Hay mostly because I ran into her nine months ago in the Burlington airport on a Jetblue flight to NYC. She was continuing on to North Carolina and had just began student teaching, for which I congratulated her. Despite my inner, secret brain screaming, "OMG! END THIS. YOU HATE SMALL TALK," my functional brain was saying, "Come on now, you're a grown-up. This is part of your life now. Throw out some funny comments... talk about how your moms do Zumba together...ask questions. Feign interest. Just get through it and pray that you're not sitting together. Plus, you are, like, doing WAAAY better than her."

So I listened to the responsible part of my brain, tolerated the inane conversation and didn't say a single offensive word. But now I'm wondering, should I even do this? If these people dislike me anyway, why should I continue to keep up the charade? Let's give them something to talk about and a good reason to defriend me!

Now, before I continue on to the second part of this post, I do want to mention that I noticed many Internet People leaving comments about the Unfriend Finder app like, "Who would be so pathetic that they need to know when someone defriends you? #getofftheinternet" Me. I need to know immediately so that I don't have to front with these people anymore! Instead of small talk, I can say what I'm thinking like, "Wow, how much make up are you wearing? You know I can still see your blemishes, right? They're just covered by like 6 layers of whatever you have on your face." (and I wonder why people dislike me)

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Part II - In Which I Complain About How People Always Defriend Me and then Tell You How I Am A Douchebag (For DB Friday's!)

This is actually a historical douchebag story as I didn't do anything especially douchey this week. I was reminded when I read this opinion piece from my alma mater's student newspaper. The female writer discusses how women should not get tattoos because their bodies are temples and tattoos destroy this precious temple. Instead, she suggests, women should wear heels to accentuate their legs, wear trendy clothes to show off and get their nails done. I am not against these things, but I happen to be a girl with a tattoo who (1) can't be in heels for more than 10 consecutive minutes; (2) can't keep up with trends and (3) just peeled off a gel manicure because I was too lazy to go back and get it removed professionally. Does this make me less beautiful? No, especially if you ask the foreign guy who stopped me on the street yesterday to tell me how beautiful I am and beg me to take his card. I demurred, like the classy lady that I am.

But this does bring me to my DB story. When I was 16, I went to Cancun with my then-BFF and her mom. Her mom pretty much let us do what we wanted which lead to us getting drunk in the club and stopping in a tattoo parlor. We walked around the very clean, sterile environment and pondered what we were going to get, ultimately deciding on semi-matching tribal-style tattoos on our upper-vaginas. With the help of the locals, we picked out our respective designs and then had them scaled down as small as they would let us. My friend went first.

As soon as hers was done, I realized what a huge mistake I was making. This tattoo looked terrible! What the fuck do these tribal symbols mean anyway? After debating, I opted out. I decided to get a tiny, tiny black heart instead - roughly the size of half a pinky nail. Later people would tell me that it looked like a mole. It was a joke of a tattoo and I really left my friend out to dry. I didn't even feel guilty about it until years later when I realized what a dick move it was.

When I was 18, I got it covered with a shamrock because the tiny heart mole was just so absurd. And since then, I have avoided doing Best Friend Tattoos in order to make sure I don't fuck anyone else over. Douchebag Friday! Obviously, I did not come up with a better name.

Shamrock Tat is still tiny. That's Sha's Claddagh ring on the left

*Entirely not true

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