2008 Woodie Awards
Down to the Core: Stalking on Facebook is no longer simple
Cory Twibell
Opinion | 4/13/08
I know a few people who get really depressed come Sunday night. I understand. I empathize. However I am not one of those people. I suffer from a different ailment. I get horrible, searing brain pain when I come to the realization that I've reached the point where Facebook just can't be stalked any further.
When I do something, you know I'm takin' it to the limit, straight up extreme. When I log in, my roommates know this is my personal time. I'm going to light candles and I'm going to be in the zone. A silence blankets the apartment and silence ensues. The stalk has commenced.
I'm going to comment on so many photos and send out so many Zombie vs. Vampire invitations that someone will make a documentary about how many e-world records I shattered.
When I hit the book, I'm going to be surfing all up on your girlfriend's page and 15 to 20 of her friends. Inexplicably, four to six of these girls are already my friends. This is a nice feeling, and it helps me sleep at night. It's always comforting to know that there are friends out there who don't need introductions. You can just automatically initiate phase two of the friendship. Best of all, you know they will always be there for you.
You know you'll get the group invite someday where they ask you for your phone number because there was a horrible mishap at this great party and this totally cute guy dropped her phone into a tub of jungle juice. Man, what a crazy night that must've been. She might even invite you to a club in a city 2,000 miles away for her 21st birthday. You'll respond "maybe attending," because there's always the possibility that a service representative from American Express will call you to explain a horrible mix up with you and a small, elderly woman in Buenos Aires. Fortunately, the problem will be resolved and you will not pursue any legal action because they conveniently offered 2,000 frequent flyer miles to you and each member of your immediate family. Weird stuff like that happens all the time.
When I do something, you know I'm takin' it to the limit, straight up extreme. When I log in, my roommates know this is my personal time. I'm going to light candles and I'm going to be in the zone. A silence blankets the apartment and silence ensues. The stalk has commenced.
I'm going to comment on so many photos and send out so many Zombie vs. Vampire invitations that someone will make a documentary about how many e-world records I shattered.
When I hit the book, I'm going to be surfing all up on your girlfriend's page and 15 to 20 of her friends. Inexplicably, four to six of these girls are already my friends. This is a nice feeling, and it helps me sleep at night. It's always comforting to know that there are friends out there who don't need introductions. You can just automatically initiate phase two of the friendship. Best of all, you know they will always be there for you.
You know you'll get the group invite someday where they ask you for your phone number because there was a horrible mishap at this great party and this totally cute guy dropped her phone into a tub of jungle juice. Man, what a crazy night that must've been. She might even invite you to a club in a city 2,000 miles away for her 21st birthday. You'll respond "maybe attending," because there's always the possibility that a service representative from American Express will call you to explain a horrible mix up with you and a small, elderly woman in Buenos Aires. Fortunately, the problem will be resolved and you will not pursue any legal action because they conveniently offered 2,000 frequent flyer miles to you and each member of your immediate family. Weird stuff like that happens all the time.
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