Dear Facebook,
You remind me of a girl I once dated in that you waste all my free time with the promise of something fun or interesting, but in reality you deliver very little. Sure, I can't imagine life without you. Your hooks are in me now, and there's no way I'm breaking up with you. I mean, I could handle it, but what about all the innocent bystanders. You've connected me to a lot of my other friends, and they would no doubt suffer more than either of us were we to call it quits. Besides, there's a lot I'd miss about you: putting cryptic rap lyrics in my status updates, the high school/college reunion that happens daily, and the ability to tell my friends that I've written this letter to you. However, you're no more perfect than I am, so the time has come for a little heart-to-heart:
1) These purposively stupid quizzes that you've whored yourself out to have become too much. No one really needs to know what Taylor Swift song they are. Actually, that doesn't even make sense. I'm a person, not a few verses and a chorus (nor a bridge...I know how you think). What Jon & Kate Plus 8 character am I? I'm not. For starters, that show makes me very uncomfortable, and secondly, the creeper-factor in a quiz like that is off the charts. If someone needs to live vicariously through a TV program primarily about children, then they also need to speak with a team of medical professionals. Stop facilitating this worthless pile of data-mining garbage, because that's exactly what it is.
2) I appreciate the freedom you gave me early on in our relationship to establish myself. You've always been big on honesty, and I can respect that. Let the weirdos and the guys with the windowless vans drive MySpace into the ground...that's fine by me. That said, some of that freedom is being taken advantage of when you let married couples have joint pages. If I'm friends with Stan Grossman through my office, I don't necessarily want to be acquainted with StanAndGloriaGrossman in cyberspace. How are Stan and I going to make our inside jokes about Hugh in Purchasing if his wife is always in the mix? Let Stan and Gloria stand alone, Facebook, and if they won't, make them.
3) Settle the hell down. I'm basically the same person I was when we first started talking, but you...you've changed. Sure, much of it's been cosmetic, but not all of it. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you, and then I have to re-learn you. That, to be perfectly honest, is kind of exhausting. I have a lot on my plate, and when you go and change the way I access my friend's pictures (even when the new way is easier), you make it hard to love you. I don't want to be the kind of guy who bitches to his buddies about his Facebook, but you don't make it easy when I log into you and everything is unlike it was the last time we were together.
4) Finally, as much as I appreciate your willingness to warmly welcome all, it may be time to think about an age cap. Granted, there may be some who consider me over the limit, and, if so, those people should pray for their wicked and deceitful hearts. I, on the other hand, would ignore a friend request from my own father, or accept it and then (once he had enough friends not to notice), defriend him. The last thing I need are questions about my cryptic rap lyric status updates. Seriously.
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