1. Debbie motherfucking Downers.
We’re all guilty of jumping on Facebook with the sole purpose of bitching about our day (“Just realized that with my salary and lack of 401K, I’m going to have to work until I’m 117. FML!”) but there are people that take this particular skill to an entirely new level. Seemingly unable to stop themselves, every single post is one tireless complaint after another, ranging from mundane blatherings to eye-stabbing stupidities.
You know that person who’s wall looks something like this?
Woke up and my back hurts. I just want to feel better.
Was cleaning and stepped on a tack. I just can’t win.
Well, thought it was bad enough that my hair frizzed this morning in the humidity, but now I get home and have a migraine.
I’m so alone. Wish I had someone to spend the night with.
No one’s invited me out in weeks. Who’s actually around tonight?
I fucking hate them.
2. People who abbreviate already dangerous words into obnoxious, cutesy pet names.
We’ve gone over this one before, but if you abbreviate the word “husband” into hubby, hubs, or the hub, or if you abbreviate the word “pregnant” into preggo, preggy, or pregs, then I fucking hate you. And I fucking hate your husband or baby daddy for marrying and/or impregnating you, as you clearly can’t be over the age of 14.
Cut that shit out. If you think putting >____< in a response to someone’s relationship status change is acceptable, or if you think adding ;D to a picture of so-and-so’s new mini skirt is an ingenious endeavor, I fucking hate you. And you should be shot.
4. Un-sexy posed pictures.
Listen up girl from high school with two children from two different fathers who works at the laundromat – if you were truly the next Gisele or Naomi, someone would’ve come along and snapped you up by now. It’s great that your self-esteem is so high and all, but that still doesn’t mean you should smear on a half ton of eyeliner, shove yourself into a pleather mini and lace-up belly shirt, and flash your gelatinous flesh for the world to see.
And it certainly doesn’t mean that you can post 27 pictures of you crossing your arms over your chest for maximum cleavage rupturing, 15 pictures of yourself licking knives and/or skewers, or 30 pictures of you pretending to fondle and/or make out with your friends. I fucking hate you.
5. Terrifying “chains” and pass-alongs.
“Like this picture of a child with a tumor the size of a watermelon growing out of their skull if you’re against cancer!”
Now, I’m pretty sure that no one out there actually enjoys cancer, so I think it goes without saying that the world-at-large is pretty supportive of finding a cure, but your goddamn stupid picture isn’t going to suddenly bring about said cure. Also, it freaks me out – all I wanted was to come onto Facebook and do some low-key stalking, and now I’m going to have nightmares about dying children with tumors large enough to be legally declared a state.
6. Shit-tastic inspirational quotes
Yeah, this kind of shit:
No, it doesn’t mean you have a fan club, it means there’s obviously something wrong with you because:
A) Everyone’s talking about you behind your back
B) Everyone hopes this will get back to you and upset you
C) You’re willingly posting this shit on Facebook and perpetuating the situation
C) There’s something hideously wrong with you
D) I fucking hate you.
Like the Debbie Downers of the world, over-sharers are seemingly helpless to stop themselves from posting every. single. intimate. happening. of. their. lives. Consider golden oldies like:
My tummy hurts so bad… Gonna be a long night…
Oh my god, my period is horrendous! Terrible cramps!
Yeast infections are the worst😦
To the intricacies of:
Little Ben had his first doctor’s appointment today! He’s 17” long and 18.9 lbs, which puts him in the 85 percentile for height and weight! He’s still sneezing a lot, the poor little guy, but the doctor said the mucus should stop soon, and only to call him if it turns forest green, so for now we’re okay!
That awkward moment when you come home and your husband is having sex with your best friend on your bed. Thanks a lot, guys, I really trusted you – you’ve broken my heart and destroyed my trust.
To the saccharine-sweet, gut-wrenching messes of:
I love you baby so much xoxoxo!!!! Can’t wait to see you tonight!! I’m gonna wear my new VS pjs😉 Get ready!! love you!!!!!
I know we’ve been through some hard times baby, and I know that it’s kind of awkward that u had a kid with another guy, but love is staying together, so I’m gonna stand by ur side and raise this kid with u and love u.*
*Based on a true goddamn story.
I fucking hate you all.
8. The work haters.
Let’s be real here – there are a lot of people who are unhappy with their jobs, and who really need to blow off steam once 6 o’clock rolls around. But when I see people openly bashing their employers and bosses, it bumps the cringe factor up into the stratosphere.
My boss is such a dumb fuck. Can’t wait to get out of here today – only 4 more hours!
Calling in sick today… I really need to go shopping and take a mental health break! My team sucks, and I’ve been doing everything for them, so those cunts can shove it and tackle those reports for once.
What I can’t wait for is for your boss to see this shit and publicly fire your ass via comment. And oh yeah, I fucking hate you.
9. Useless posts.
We get it – not all of us can lead the sorts of lives that involve sipping Cristal at noon or having our personal chauffeur take us on afternoon jaunts to Rodeo Drive -but that doesn’t mean we want to bond over your mundane shit either. Why the fuck are you even posting this?
Good morning, FB.
Congratu-fucking-lations, you’ve managed to do something glaringly obvious and breathe at the same time. It’s a goddamn miracle.
10. tYpInG lYke DiS
Are you 5 years old? Did you recently suffer a head injury? Because those are the only two options for taking the time to mash out this steaming pile of obnoxious shit. Not only are you blinding anyone who even glimpses at this, you’re proving yourself to be an illiterate, attention-seeking moron who probably finds it difficult to do simple things like tying your shoe, finding your way to your own front door, or remembering who birthed your child.
I fucking hate you.