How Facebook Killed Birthdays.


I now play a sport.

My mom told me it could help offset my over-eating.

My feedings, as she calls them.

So I play co-ed flag football with a variety of people who appear to not like me very much.

Maybe because I wear these really tight gym shorts with my package protruding out of it.

Whatever.  That’s how you get chicks.

At the last game, one of the yentas on our team cackled something about her birthday.

Funny how everyone on my team remembered to message me on my birthday.  Well.  Almost everyone.

Then she stared at me.

While I was, coincidentally, feeding myself.

I can’t help it.

Ronald McDonald is my dark lord.  McNuggets are my life-nectar.

So I stared back and said you mean write on your Facebook wall?

Still she said, they remembered.


They didn’t remember.

The shitheads on my team just happen to log onto Facebook every day.

And then Facebook does the rest.

Hey thanks for logging in.

Guess what dude!

Remember that fat chick you made out with three weeks ago?  Hilarious. Okay her, Jack, your cousin with the BO, and your co-worker Joe all have birthdays today.

Dude, check it out. All you gotta do is head over to their walls and write “happy bday!” and boom.

You’re super thoughtful.

The douches listen.  They obey Facebook.

Happy b-day Jack!

How very pedestrian.

So today, I’m taking a stand.  I’m declaring right now, that if you have a birthday and I don’t remember it?


Call me on it.

But also call out every single person that just left a sentence on your Facebook wall.

They’re not better than the people who forgot.  They’re the same.

Facebook will change a lot of things.  But don’t let it fondle the breasts of social courtesy without paying a price.

Take a stand with me.

I’m done now.

And these McNuggets aren’t going to eat themselves.

See my protruding package on Facebook here.  Read tweets about my protruding package here.