In the beginning God created facebook. It was filled with college girls, slutty pictures, drunk photos of your roomates and ye it was good. It was not uncommon to find a half naked woman in a display picture on your friend request inbox, and a fully naked one in your bed. Then we were cast out of paradise as God said unto student “Thou must share thy facebook with your high school siblings” and ye, it was good. Then some douchebag pissed on the wrong person’s keg or fucked the wrong guy’s girlfriend. God cast us out of paradise and opened up facebook universally. As we were left to wonder what happened, we noticed our friends who didn’t go to college started showing up, and ye it was good.
As the parties intensified and the notches in our belt grew God likened this to a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah. Rather than destroy our dorms with great floods, he did something far worse, he opened up facebook to our parents, grandparents, our employers, and the cops. And ye, it was bad.

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Remember the girl you had a crush on in the third grade? Turns out she’s probably online, and you could be a click away from your pre-pubescent daydreams come true. It’d be like “You’ve Got Mail” meets… some other shitty Internet-related romance flick. In fact, someone should pitch this idea to the studios.

Let’s be real: you’ll never forget her name, so you go ahead and type it in that little Facebook search box. A bunch of Jennifer Smiths show up in a list  (note: this name is entirely random/fictional…call me, Jen, please!). Finally, on page 7, you get the same Jenny Smith who was the hottest girl in all of your Elementary school. How do you know? She’s still your age, still in the New York network, and her profile pic shows that she’s got that same red hair that brought all the boys to the yard (the schoolyard, that is).

So you click to add her as a “Friend,” even though you haven’t seen her since you got sent to the principal’s office for hocking a loogie on a guy that was bothering her just to impress her. Maybe you add a little message like: “Hey remember me from Mrs. Whateverthefuck’s class?” If Jen doesn’t call the police, chances are she’ll accept the Friend Request. And then you’re like almost halfway there.

After some flirty Wall-to-Walls and a cute comment on her profile pic, you build up the blogospheric balls to ask out her out—via keyboard—and she accepts your Date Request (now there’s a goddamn Facebook app waiting to happen— “Poking” is for pansies).

When you two e-lovebirds finally hook up, you’re gonna face the sorry fact that not only is this chick not as hot as she seemed in grade school, but she’s like half as hot as she was in her Facebook profile pics. Turns out, you would’ve known this if she hadn’t put you on Limited Profile. She did it out of fear you might be a stalker, which at this point I guess is true, in which case there might be better luck on the MySpace.

I recently heard a great motivational expression: “Are you soaring with the Eagles or hanging out with Turkeys.” Amen, brothers. And turkeys are for sandwiches, not for long term friendships.

Fellas, are you hanging out with  turkeys or soaring with the eagles? There’s an easy way to check: go onto your social networking site, let’s take the ever-popular Facebook. You can hear those turkeys gobbling their asses off all day on the FB, just look for a dumbass status update or a douchey profile pic. In fact, if your Facebook friend is updating his status and changing his profile pic every few hours (you know who I’m talking about), that sonofabitch is a turkey. Invite that dude to eat a Turkey Carver sandwich at Boston Market, but not to the club.

And the eagles? Well they’re hard to find on Facebook—and in life—but they’re out there, you just have to know where to find them . Look at their info: if they got Dylan in their “Favorite Music” section and The Godfather in their “Favorite Movies” and they don’t have some pretentious quote in their “Favorite Quotations” that they clearly Googled five seconds before updating their FB page (turkeys, I’m onto you bitches), then this sonofagun just might be an eagle.

Click on photos. If this dude’s got more photos “Tagged by” himself than by others, then that person is a turkey ,except this turkey you wont be having him over for Thanksgiving dinner.  An eagle has photos posted of him by others, and it looks like he’s about to get laid in a few of them—not taking pics of himself at a photo booth at WalMart for the whole world wide web to see. Another way to check is to click on their “Wall.” A turkey’s Wall is full of “John is taking a walk” (cluck cluck) , “John is at work “, “John just ate a ham and cheese sandwich”, “John is tired and is about to go to sleep” . Do these turkeys actually think that we care that they just ate a ham and cheese sandwich ? Is this the most significant and compelling thing that they did all day ? Believe it or not these turkeys actually feel that they have to update their whole entire social network about the damn sandwich ? Now and eagle’s Wall is full of actual human beings writing on it to see what’s up or friends complimenting them on a great achievement.

And hey, the same exact criteria goes for girls too. If a lady’s posting videos on Facebook or MySpace or YouTube of herself singing (or worse, lip-synching) some shitty Michelle Branch or John Mayer song and she’s not a singer…look, what I’m saying is, who the f ?%#$  wants to bang a turkey?

Lately Facebook’s self-esteem has been comparable to that of my 9^th grade girlfriend. She’s looking around at all the other pretty competition and is constantly and unnecessarily changing her look, adding little fragments of culture to herself and annoying the shit out of me in the process. Of course, the only difference is my 9^th grade girlfriend put out.

The other difference is that Facebook is a website created by a dude—and by dude I mean a probably creepy nerd. How do I know? I’ll tell you how, because Mark Zuckerberg launched Facebook.com at Harvard University, a breeding ground for internet nerds.

Also, there are very few things creepier than Facebook’s News Feed. C’mon, man, MySpace was the place for predators—we don’t need a social networking site to turn us into them! You went from “Old Facebook” to “New.Facebook.com,” added the “status updates” then changed them to “What’s on your mind?” Really? Do you really care, Facebook? Okay, fine. I’ll tell you what’s on my mind.

Every so often I’ll see I have an e-mail. I’ll get real excited, assume it’s one of those girls from the chat rooms replying back. But it’s always a Facebook “Notification.” So then I click it and I’m told that my sort-of-friend Steve “became a Fan of The Simpsons .” Was that really worth notifying me? Steve has watched the Simpsons for years ; this is really not groundbreaking news.

The other thing on my mind is how, if I look now, I have 4 event invitations, 50 group invitations, 2 Page suggestions, 53 “other requests” and 17 “new updates.” I don’t even want to know what “other requests” there are. Okay, I guess I do. Oh. My cousin “sent an invitation using ‘What Muppet Are You?’” What Muppet am I? How many times did Jim Henson pay/blow you, Zuckerberg? (OMG I just found out I’m Kermit by the way, LOL.)

Finally, last and least, what’s on my mind is the fact that I can’t stop reloading Facebook Home and what’s worse is that now because of Facebook Chat, all my “Friends” can see when I’m doing exactly that.

In closing, shed yourself of this stuff, Facebook! Learn to love yourself for who you are and who you were, before you sold your soul to the Google. Then, please, shut the f&%$  up.

In the meantime, I’ve got some “other requests” to attend to. A what is my IQ application ? Stupid enough to complete it…