Dumb stuff Facebook tries to sell me, mid-earthquake

I just went on facebook, because I experienced my first real earthquake. My apartment complex shook like an outdoor table at a cheap restaurant. I thought about phoning my lover to say “come quick, let’s do it!” And then it was over. Over already? A whole 4.4 on the Richter, and not a single glass was broken, although a friend reported a salt shaker falling over in his ground floor abode.

So, I was on facebook. And everybody was updating in CAPS like it was scary or something.

So here’s my life plan by facebook advertising: Pregnant! Then duh… lose a of pounds and my happy life continues. Except I was only able to afford that tummy tuck because I SOLD MY BABY ON THE BLACK MARKET AND GOT CAUGHT. But at least, before I went to jail, I could shop at Modcloth for these cute little outfits that I’d never have fitted into with my ugly baby-tummy.

Find it distressing to see someone’s crying face on my facebook page every day. I don’t want to see my friends’ criminal records. I don’t think it’s any of my business. I guess I need to change my age, race, and sexual preferences again. So now, I’ll be a gay man, widowed, 19. That should make me harder to target.

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