I didn’t want to have a Fakebook account, but it was forced on me. Twice. Here’s the tragic story. Circa 2010, I got an email from my old college roommate.
He was in a manic state. “Dude! Me and Shirley went to the Playboy Mansion!!! I’ve got pictures! You’ve got to see them! Do you have a Fakebook account?”
My answer was, “No. And I don’t want one.”
He responded, “Dude you have to get one to see the pics!”
I mulled this over, at one point asking him why he couldn’t just email them to me. I have no recollection of his reasoning why he could not, but I caved and got an account.
Like a dumbass, I used my real name to register. And then it started. A torrent of “friend requests” from just about everyone I knew (and secretly hated) from high school. Did it not occur to them that I hadn’t communicated with any of them since 1985? Did they not think that there was a reason for that? Apparently not.
I even got a request from my very first girlfriend, when I was 16. “HEY! We should get together! We’d have so much fun making fun of liberals, etc.” Sounds pretty good, right? Her father was the Assistant President of a large bank, he was probably dead, which means she’s gotta be loaded.
Except the fact that SHE broke up with me way back when. So I told her to fuck off.
But it wasn’t all bad. I re-connected with my ex-girlfriend who is now my bride. Having scene the Playboy Mansion pictures and acquiring a wife, I then deleted my account . . . and it wasn’t easy. It took like two years or so before it was finally gone.
Flash forward to 2017. The owner of the company which fired me in February of this year (praise the Lord) wanted me to take this exam called “Certified Cheese Professional.” Which is kinda like sommelier test except for cheese. Very few people pass it. And even less care about it. 🙂
Are you excited yet? 😉
Then “he” said (he’s very gay), “There’s a great study group for the exam on Fakebook! You should check it out!” I didn’t want to “check it out.” But the fee just to take this test is $500, which my company paid, and put me and my wife up in the gayest hotel EVER in Denver. So I pretty much had to look at this study group, and that meant creating a new Fakebook account.
Not wanting to use my real name again, I created a fictional character. Che Esemonger. A play on the job title of cheesemonger. Here was my profile picture:
So I took the stupid test and passed. In the meantime, I allowed some people that I presently know that I was indeed the Cheese Communist . . . Che Esemonger.
Then more people were added until last night when I decided to delete that account. Knowing how long it took the first time I concocted the perfect plan. I was going to get a perma ban.
I had been banned for 5 hours on FB before (can’t remember for what, but it was definitely a conservative remark), and recently had one of my posts deleted because some Negress was babbling on and on about how she won’t wear a mask because of the Kung Flu thing. Here was my response:
Wow! They even quoted the bible to me for that one. Matthew 2:12 or some shit. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” So what if I was heavily into BDSM? You know bondage and discipline? I WANT TO BE HURT AND HUMILIATED! That’s “doing unto others” in my book. 😉
I’d had enough! I was going to post a plethora of pro-Trump, pro-gun, and what Fakebook would consider “racist” memes. Certainly that would get me banned! But there were problems.
First, I had used a phone number I no longer have to register. Then I forgot my password. Fakebook says, “Not a problem! We’ll send you a text to retrieve it.
But remember that part about me not owning that phone anymore? That means I can’t get a text!
So what to do? What to do?
Then I tried changing my password. It didn’t work. They wanted me to send them a picture of my driver’s licence, or some other form of identification that they have no business knowing. No way was I going to do that. So I gave up.
So my beloved Che Esemonger, purveyor of cheese to the people is dead.
Yet another victim of Fakebook bias.
