Dear Facebook, What Happened?

My Facebook profile started with one sole mission. It was a very hormonal time back then. All I wanted to do was insert my peepee into another person’s peepee. If it were a girl then it was the best case scenario. But judging the number of boys pretending to be girls on my friendlist back then, I sincerely question my methods and my sexuality. I remember having more than three friends with the same profile picture. I didn’t ask any questions. I chatted and flirted with all three of them simultaneously. All in the hope that one of them would turn out to be the real deal and subsequently fulfill my desires of my genitalia being touched, tell me how much she enjoys the process, and cater to my inner insecurities. Needless to say, I wasn’t that smart back then. I had no shame. I had no regrets. Till this day I have no regrets. Given the chance I would do it all over again.

Back then my friends and I used to upload statuses about some mysterious girl who has stolen our hearts; almost in all cases indicating multiple people. That’s called diversified portfolio management.

Just when everything was pitch perfect with butterflies and fairies, that’s when the fucking fire nation attacked. Somewhere along the way, a portion of these hormonal teenagers found out that Facebook was the perfect place to display your pseudo intellectuality. Status updates which used to reek of sexual desperation started reeking of political stink. People were suddenly under the illusion that their opinions matter.


And that’s when it all went down the gutter. What was once a garden full of potential orgies, suddenly became a crapfest of people shouting out their shitty opinions. They started complaining about anything and everything as long as it made them appear unique. They started complaining about the weather, about how the weather is too hot or too cold, how they love the rain, how they hate the rain, how they love people who loves rain and what not. Little did they realize that like themselves and their opinions, every piece of shit that exits a rectum is also unique. That doesn’t make them any less flushable.

First came the bums and the others followed suit. By “bums” I really mean the bums. At this point of the badly written article you’re reading, I’ll admit one thing to you people. I fucking hate communists. I just can’t stand them. And the reason is simple. It’s not because of their political ideology, rather due to their writings. Fuckers can’t write a single sentence straight. What’s up with using words like “bourgeois,” “neocolonialism,” “narrative,” “discourse,” “diarrhoea,” “synthesis,” and their all-time favorite, “establishment”?


I get it, you are a part of the elite class of righteous fucks who think reading “A Song of Ice and Fire” somehow makes your dicks a couple of inches longer than the people who only watch the TV show. Well screw you too. I understand nothing that you dimwits are trying to say but all I get is that somehow my 200tk coffee is part of the bigger problem. Twats.

Fun Fact: I actually went to the Facebook profile of a leftist acquaintance of mine and collected all those words from a single status update.

From that point onward people started complaining about everything. And by everything I mean every-fucking-thing.
Tomar nunu daray na? Complain on social media.
Tomake dekhe arekjoner nunu daray na? Complain on social media.
Shobai ek pose maira chobi tule? Complain on social media.
Shobai prisma use kore chobi tulse? You guessed it, complain on social media.
People go to eat unlimited pizzas on Ramadan. Fuckers complain on wastage of food. People go to some orphanage and upload pictures of them doing some charitable work, fuckers complain that this is all just attention whoring.


I hate pseudo intellectuals and social justice warriors. This particular bunch of people think that they know everything and what they think is right is absolute. An issue arises and these numbnuts are there with every possible set of solutions. One day they are privacy and law experts, stopping Facebook from making all their pictures public by sharing a spam message. And the very next day they are counter terrorism experts, delivering status after status on how the army should invade and neutralize a terrorist attack. All these lawyers and strike forces have one thing in common. They all work at Facebook/Student/Baaper Hotel.


I miss the good old days of social media. People claim that they are in social media for networking, for keeping up to date with the world and its technological advancements. My colleagues at Rantages claim that they are here to entertain you with good humor and dank memes. But I’m a simple man. I’m here just in hopes that someday my pee pee will get in touch with a girl’s wee wee. And that she won’t complain about it publicly or in DSU. Is that so much to ask for?


Cover design by ObviousNoodles.



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