I love Facebook.
It’s quick, dirty and helps me keep up with my 471 closest friends. Secretly my wish is to get over 500 friends. Actually, my wish is get to 1 friend above where Jennifer’s friend count is at so I can say “psst..I win” but she was in a sorority so there is no hope for that.
Recently, though, have you noticed a disturbing Facebook trend?
Groups. Groups of which you are supposed become a “Fan”. What is a fan? I suppose a supporter of the group itself. Baseball teams have fans, bands have fans, movie stars have fans. However, lately on Facebook people are getting all fanned up about…
Not so special things.
For example: sleeping. Wait – sleeping? Isn’t that a basic biological need? You can’t be a fan of something you need to survive – can you? What if you aren’t a fan of sleeping? What then? Where’s that group? Are they even alive? But if you do like sleeping, head over to Facebook, bring your pillow and carpet square to find a space on the Fans of Sleeping page. What’s going on there? All of the sleepy oversleepers and adult nappers join this group to talk about sleeping. Oops, they all fell asleep at the keyboard so not much got said.
God. You can join a group to be a fan of god. There’s a loaded gun. Where to begin. Is this THE god or god as represented by any name also meaning God. What if you’re a fan of Jesus but not God. Is Jesus God? Who is Jehovah then? Do you see the kinds of existential battles a group about God will have? This group will forever be at unrest. They will form separate sects for God, GAWD and OMG.
This battle will go on for centuries.
The other day I saw a group for Fans of Bonfires. What about the fans of S’Mores? Can they join too?
Where is the group for Common Sense? I’d like to be a fan of that.
Fans of traffic? Fans of Losing Your Shoe On The Shoulders of Highways. How about Fans of Road Construction? I know they’re out there because I can’t think of any other reason why the bridge by my house has been under construction for 2 whole years.
Fans of Housework! Fans of Cleaning The Coffee Pot. Fans of Dryer Lint. Fans of Wives That Need Wives.
Fans of….Fans.
The ceiling kind. Not oscillating.
Fans of long lines. Fans of BACON! Fans of butter not margarine. Fans of breakfast for dinner. Fans of bedhead. Fans of showing up late for appointments. Fans of root canals.
Fans of PEANUT BUTTER!
Did you know you could be a Fan of Hugs (true). Let’s all hug each other through the…INTERNET!
Fan of Texting….that I can understand. But where are the Fans of Texting While Driving – those are the risky sons of bitches I want to know.
Fans of men that look hot in cowboy hats. (YEE HAW!)
Fans of Whining. Fans of Low Self Esteem. Fans of Anxiety. Fans of Harden The Fuck Up!
Fans of Plastic Sheets You Put Over Toilet Seats. Fans of Fans of Metallica (assuming the members of Metallica would join this). Fans of Fancy Lotion. Fans of McGuyver (very resourceful site). Fans of cleaning the litter box. Fans of Hangnails. Fans of BOSS! Fans of driving a mini van (HOLLA!). Fans of Nut-Free (not that nuts wouldn’t join it but at least they wouldn’t be allergic to it).
Fans of SEASONAL ALLERGIES (sponsored by Zyrtec).
Fans of CHAFING! Fans of Salt Tabs. Fans of THEY CANCELED THE SWIM (!) Fans of DRAFTING! (or pacing; different group, same purpose)
Fans of Find a Peanut M&M on the floor and eat it (I now know two women who could join this group).
FANS OF WES!
Fans of sarcasm. Fans of mosquito bites. Fans of bunions. Fans of potholes. Fans of trash (any type; trailer, white, compactors…). Fans of my Chihuahua can kick your great danes ass (true). Fans of mail (postal, e and fan mail). Fans of Bad Haircuts. Fans of Bad Cell Phone Reception (let’s hear it – or not – for dropped calls!).
Fans of Functional Threshold Tests. Fans of Zone 5c. Fans of Not Leaving Zone 1. Fans of SRM against Fans of Power Tap. Fans of What the F Do You Do With All Of That Data Anyways. Fans of Peeing In Your Wetsuit. Fans of Transitions (take your time). Fans of BONKING! Fans of Not Wearing Your Heart Rate Monitor Even Though Your Coach Tells You To.
Just sayin.
Fans of Gelato. Fans of Paella. Fans of French Toast & Other Foreign Things.
Fans of The Vagina Doctor…..anyone?
Fans of Getting Audited By The IRS. Fans Of Not Needing Sex Anymore Because The Government Keeps Screwing Me! Fans of mortgage rates. Fans of late fees.
Fans of spending the night in the airport. Fans of speeding tickets. Fans of online driving school.
I’m a fan!
Here’s another that really exists: Fans of Flip Flops.
Is Bree Wee behind this?
Fans of Your Boss. Fans of The Copy Machine. Fans of Faxing. Fans of The Smell Of Office Supplies. Fans of 8 hour workdays! Fans of Commuting. Fans of Annual Performance Reviews.
Fans of JHC. Fans of THC. Fans of TLC. One letter off and you’re hanging with a whole different crowd.
Fans of Drivers License Pictures.
FANS OF E.L.F.!
Fans of getting so drunk you wake up two towns over in the back of a stranger’s Jeep Comanche (Joe?).
Fans of not fans of pizza.
Fans of crazy laps. Fans of naked laps. Fans of getting lapped. Fans of sitting in someone else’s lap
And …this just in…logged into Facebook and saw:
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICHES
Become a fan!
(5 of my friends are fans)
I rest my case.
(for now)
