Friday, October 22, 2010


Monday, March 1, 2010

The truth about Facebook quizzes

I think Facebook is a great site. It allows me to post stupid iPad parodies on my colleagues walls. It allows me to poke random people just so they feel obliged (out of social networking courtesy) to poke me back. It also allows me to spy on people. I like to visit people's profile and try to judge them before knowing them. It's cool, really. You should try it.

But sometimes, this site does manage to get on my nerves. The thing I hate the most... Applications, mainly quizzes, that post on my wall. "Which celebrity slut are you?", "What kind of penis are you?", "What Smarties color are you?", "What sex position will you never do?", "What fish organ are you?"... Do any of these ring a bell? Not really, right? I knew it! Cause you're my readers, and my readers don't suck at Facebook.

I have a friend that does all kind of crazy quizzes all day. I always tell him to stop, but he never manges to stop for more than one week. And you want to know what he got from these quizzes? "Paris Hilton - You are openly slut", "Flask penis - Narrow top, thick bottom. What the fuck are you gonna do with that?", "Pink - You spread joy buddy.", "All of them - Trust us on that", "You're an anchovies cunt - We prefer not to comment on that.". 

You can clearly see that the quiz results are not on his side. And the worst part now, is that the application has posted the results on all his friends profiles. Now everyone will know he's got a flask penis and he smells like an anchovies cunt. And according to the results, he must be crying on his bed, stuffing his face with pink Smarties.

To get back to the applications, I got the most pathetic post via an application on my wall today. So pathetic in fact, that it made me laugh. Apparently some guy took a quiz on how I was going to die. And this application posted the results on my wall. Just imagine how surprised I was when I read that on my wall. <User Whatever My Name> took the quiz "How you are going to die?"

I mean, come on. How are they expecting me to react? Do they really think people will be like, "WTF? Someone knows how I am going to die. I need to find out more. Apparently everyone using this application knows how I'm going to die too. OMG! I feel so insecure. I know, I'm going to take the test too. I'll check out on everyone's death. Take that fuckers!".

No one's going to react like that. In fact, I deleted that post. I delete all posts made via applications. The ideal solution would be an option to prevent applications from posting on people's wall. I know applications are a big part of the picture and shit, but lately they are just pure spam.

And if you really care, drop by my Facebook page and say a word. Just don't send me smiles or hugs or kisses or dildos (cause I've had that one too) via applications...

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Tiresome Valentine's Day

My girl and I went out today. It was Valentines Day, so we thought we'd act unoriginal and go on a date during the day. All was fine till we arrived at the cinema hall queue, where we realized that half of the island was on a date too. So we decided to ditch the movie and go for lunch. We had some dim sum and the food court was noise polluted 2 by local radio personalities who were imitating old people. You see, that's one thing I could never understand about the radio. Some years back, at one point, some asshole with hemorrhoid stage 3 decided that it would be cool to imitate an old granny. Well, actually it was cool at that time. But after 5 years hearing the same shit every morning, you'll eventually get tired. You wouldn't listen to an old granny doing the morning show everyday, would you? That's exactly my point!

Tired of all the noise and crowd, we took the car and went to the center of Port Louis. She proposed the municipal library; closed. I proposed a tour of Port Louis; awesome. We went to Champs de Mars, and then ended up at Vallee Pitot. Neither her nor I ever went there before. The roads there are separated by dividing strip with nice green grass. And then we made a u-turn and headed back to Champs de Mars, where we saw some pretty nice colonial houses and an amazing pagoda.

It was time then to hit the road and head back home. But before, we needed to buy an ink cartridge... And some other stuff that we did not plan to buy. So we dropped by Jumbo, and came out with a refill kit for the ink (cause they did not have the ink cartridge), a pineapple (cause she wanted to impress me with her pineapple choosing skills), some dry lemon (cause they smell good) and a glass (cause she loves to buy random stuff).

Since we got a refill kit for the ink, I had to do the dirty work. And I managed to do it wrong. I'm sure it was her glaring eyes, commanding me to make a mistake so she can show her superiority. And that's exactly what happened. And that sucks. So she decided she knew best and, I hate to admit, she knew. She took a hammer and a nail, and fixed the mother fucker. Then I refilled the ink with what looked like a syringe full of ink, placed the cartridge back in its place and tada... Chinese engineering. Shit don't work!

So now she was all sad and looked all disappointed. All I wanted to do at this moment was to hug her. All she wanted was for the damn printer to work. So I took my hug back and told her that it was hopeless. She did not agree, and told me I should not discourage her. So, I said yeah it will work. And she got her smile back. But then some hours later, the printer was still not working right. Baby you gotta listen to me... I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.