…And for God’s sake quit poking me.

 

As far as social networking platforms go, Facebook is pretty user-friendly.

Keeping up with distant friends and relatives has never been easier. Let’s face it: we all wonder what that super-cute kid we had a crush on in elementary school looks like these days. You know, the one that we would follow home hiding behind the bushes so he did not see us (oh . . . maybe that was just me).

Granted, I could live without the picture of me in the hideous Rainbow Bright-meets-Paul Bunyan flannel (and you thought it did not exist), memorialized in my online photo album by a fellow high school dance corps member, but it’s all in good fun.

However, if I ruled the world (or knew how to make a Facebook app), I would invent both an app incinerator and an E-mail zapper. Seriously, I have had it with the quiz thing and apps posting on my wall before I give permission.

Take for instance – ugh – Farmville! Die, piggy-cow. Die, Farmer John. Insert evil laugh here.

Maybe I am just a “bad” friend, but frankly, I do not care what animal you will be when you reincarnate. I don’t want to have a pillow fight, snowball fight or a mafia-vampire war. I don’t want to play in your garden or swim in your sea. No thanks; don’t want a heart, or smiles, flowers, candy, cards, drinks, croissants, angels, lollipops, guns, knives, midgets, vibrators . . . Ok, I have not seen the last two, but I’m sure it is only a matter of time.

But you get my point, right? I even had someone send me an app invite called “I want to make love to you.”

Really? Get a life.

Now, I realize you can block an app after someone posts on your wall by clicking on the icon and selecting %u201Cblock application%u201D on the apps page, but it%u2019s a pain-in-the-butt and I’m full-up in that department, partly because I%u2019m swamped by 769 inbox messages.

I wish it were easier to filter and block Facebook messages. I am either dense or technically illiterate because I cannot figure out how I became guests of events and groups when I have not chosen membership.

If I had my way, I would be a message-blocking ninja.

My dear friend says, “If I didn’t speak to you in grade school, haven’t in 20 years nor at any organized reunion we mutually attended, why would I want to read about what you are having for lunch?”

Amen!

Oh, and before I forget: just because we are Facebook friends, does not give mean sending me a text at 2 a.m. is Ok.

It’s not! It only took one of those before my privacy settings were changed (although I confess, I did consider throwing a flaming cow-patty at the offender, but that app was not available . . . yet.)

So, want to be friends? I promise I will not infest your profile page with random, virtual-diseases.

 

Click here to read my column: Dogs, Dishes, Divorce and Deadlines