Dear Facebook Ads
Dear Facebook ads,
Thank you, I really needed a reminder of how single I am. It never occurred to me before I saw you hanging out on the right side of my screen that, although I am not bold enough to try Pucker flavored Vokda, I am enough of an alcoholic for you to suggest an area wellness foundation. You’re really playing with my emotions here, do I or do I not have an addiction because honestly, you’re sending some pretty mixed signals- not that, that experience is out of the ordinary. I have what I affectionately refer to as chronic two week texting syndrome. Symptoms include, but are not limited to, a guy is like “woah, sassy weird girl thats kind of a bizarre turn-on”, and then within two weeks the constant non-verbal communication goes from non-stop to the after two am variety, if any. So thank you dear Facebook for reminding me of all my not so awesome qualities aka crazy girl. As if the childhood of a ginger isn’t emotionally and mentally scaring enough as is. You try growing up Catholic only to be told you don’t have a soul. Suddenly that babysitter who told you she could make you disappear sounds like a pretty unambiguous decision.
You had me going for a second there, advertisements. I thought you were getting warmer when a few eHarmony logos started popping up, dare I say I was even tempted to join Kim Kardashian’s monthly shoe club where I really, truly believe she does take my style into account and picks a special pair for me. Thats what $39.95 a month gets you in this day and age ladies and gentlemen. Not to disrupt the tone of this or anything, but let me mention that I have indeed clicked a few of the engagement ring websites. I have never really been a fan of nature or the environment in the first place, resisting the sun and maintaing the preference of being pulled in a wagon for example, so the whole earth diamond, au natural, gig isn’t real appealing to this crowd. Yes ya jerk, I can be a crowd of one. Once I purchase my own engagement ring I will definitely check out your snow, dirt, gravel and mud racing team.
It is a true testament of how much these advertisements affect me when the only sign I caught, that my friends changed my sex from female to male, was the offer presented to me to purchase a neon jockstrap. Apparently I would be a very flamboyantly stylish male who retained some level of advance athleticism beyond keg stands and pick up football, because you were all totally a starter on your high school football team. Yeah, I will believe that one when you stop lying about your size; however, you could say in response that you would stop lying when we / I / who am I kidding, stopped investing in padded bras that increase our / my boobs by two cup sizes (thus making them existent) and wearing spanx. To this I would say touche, and that you would still hook up with me regardless- that is, if it fell within my two weeks.
Forever your admirer,
PS I will get that ring someday. Hell, maybe even that jockstrap. You can’t find much apparel in that color range these days and as an Art and Design major I do appreciate it. Even wondering, will that level of saturation last, or lose intensity after washes?
- gingerambition posted this