Livin' online.

Quickly before we start, the previous entry may have confused the less observant of you.

There are two writers for this blog, but my colleague has not updated in a while. And often neglects to place his name at the end of entries. So, for reference, Fox is a quiet appearing misanthrope with far too much time on his hands, and Az (me) is a perfect individual, a fine example of mankind as a whole and in fact of the whole male species.

Now that I've alienated most of my audience...

My Facebook is fucking filled with uselss shit, rather a useful reflection of my bedroom, mind, notebook, and also my sorely neglected backpack which finds itself falling apart at the seams and held together with gaffa tape. And I actually am gobsmacked in a totally literal sense at how much new shit keeps appearing on the bloody thing. Bebo didn't get this much! But this absolute obsession with additions is getting ridiculous, last time I checked a good friend of mine had added the "What kind of girl are you?" application. Admittedly he once played a pantomime dame but come on...

For those VERY FUCKING RARE people out there who have no idea of what I'm talking about, Facebook is an online area where people gather to arrange events, or get birthday reminders, or buy each other beers, or race in cars, or fly tramps around treacherous caverns (I wish I was kidding). I can see the practical purpose of some of these features, but enough is enough. I can't log into my facebook these days without seventeen invitations to find out how I'm going to die, or what my sexual fantasy is, or who's bitten me and turned me into an example of the shambling undead, or invite me to express my admiration of "lolcats" which I could easily do using the "Status" function that can usually be found at the top right of the page.

Which leads me nicely onto my next point, just like a well run public transport service, something I find myself highly inexperienced with and thus am used to distractions such as this...erm...sorry.

Allowing people to display their innermost thoughts is an interesting proposition. On the one hand, people can advertise that they have lost their phone and need numbers, or have an item for sale at a reasonable price, etc. Or, more often than not, we get "Gordon Freemon is an emotionless bearded fuckwit/is fighting creatures from another dimension/is stuck on Guitar Hero 'Through the Fire and Flames' on expert mode/is having a threesome with sweaty Europeans in crotchless leather shorts" so on so forth, you get the picture. Worryingly enough I wouldn't be at all suprised at seeing any of these in somebody's status.

I guess this wouldn't be much of an article without some form of conclusion. But I'm too lazy to think this through properly. So I'll just say this. If, for some reason, you feel like adding every application and their worm ridden dog to your already grotty and overcrowded Facebook account, then fine, be my guest. But don't invite me to the bloody things. Rather why don't you find something interesting to do. Read a book perhaps, or write a compelling and entertaining murder mystery. Or, as none of you will do these things, get brutally slaughtered by Motoko Kusanagi and Columbo.

-Az