Why I Unfriended You on Facebook

…or didn’t accept your friend request.

…or blocked you. (I’m looking at you, MIL.)

Way back in ‘augt 8 when I first joined the book of faces I was all into it.

I accepted every friend request that came my way and sent out requests to people I had no business associating with online or in real life.

I may have even played some of those stupid little games. (Farmville, cough-cough.)

Now that I’m older and fatter, er, wiser I’m a little more discriminating.

Periodically, I go through my account and ditch people.

When the rare friend request comes through I will accept it if it’s from

a. Someone I know in real life (and want to remain in pseudo contact with).

OR

b. Someone I ‘know’ through blogging (and want to remain in pseudo contact with).

I have no idea how many FB friends I have.

Honestly I don’t pay attention to numbers as we all know they are irrelevant.

(At least that’s what I tell myself before every birthday and doctor’s appointment.)

Here are some of my reasons we aren’t friends on Facebook:

1. You’re too preachy.

I can call my mother anytime I want to feel as if I’m going to Hell.

Or I can go back to my old Baptist church.

2. All your posts are about what’s for dinner.

I know you’re an awesome cook.

Can you see me bowing down to your fabulousness (and hitting the delete button)?

3. You post song lyrics ALL. DAY. LONG.

I don’t give a rat’s ass what you’re listening to and I need an ear worm like Gary Busey needs mind altering drugs.

4. You’re related to me.

I have a very small family. I see them once or twice a year.

That’s good enough for me.

Also, nieces?

It’s hard for me to see the trash you’re posting and play nicey nice on Christmas and Easter.

And/or not tell Grandma McJudgerson (aka my mother).

On a related tangent: Check your privacy settings, people! I AM nosy and I’ll still stalk your ass even if I’m not your friend. It’s up to you to shut that down.

5. You’ve seen me naked.

That means you, gynecologist, and any random college hookups, too.

6. You constantly send me requests to play Farmville or join your mafia family.

I have my own mafia family.

If you have to ask about it you’re not a made man and you could be sleeping with the fishes very soon.

7. You and your husband have a joint profile.

See also: your profile picture is you canoodling with your husband/brother/sister/parents/dog.

Let your husband get his own account and hack into it like the rest of us.

8. You don’t know the difference between your/you’re, to/two/too, its/it’s or any other grammatical error that indicates you snoozed through fifth grade English.

9. You update your status every time you go to the bathroom. Or more than three times a day.

{You might want to see a doctor about that. I can give you a recommendation for an excellent urologist. He’s hunky and he’ll ask you to squeeze his fingers.}

10. You’re always trying to sell something.

I don’t need baby paraphernalia, Avon, floral purses, a psychic reading, or a miracle colon cleansing product.

Perhaps you should get off Facebook and look for a job. Then you wouldn’t need to shill your wares all day.

What are your Facebook pet peeves?