I Love to Hate You

My continuing mantra: I don't blog about work, but suffice to say, it's been crazy busy lately...and also there's been a lot of crazy. To comfort myself, I turn to one of my all-time favorite hobbies: internet stalking people I hate.

What? It relaxes me.

Now, usually Facebook--aka stalker's paradise--is sufficient. I've mentioned, well, many times that I am a huge fan of not being a huge fan of my brother's significantly younger girlfriend. Her recent unprotected (heh) Facebook activity leads me to believe that perhaps she and my brother are not together any more, because she's moved out and neither of those dudes in her profile pic are dearest bro. Fascinating! Because I thought when you managed to survive law enforcement relationship counseling (that's my way of saying the cops were called over a domestic violence dispute while trying to deny my white trash family) you can survive anything. Ahhhh, Facebook. (Try commenting on one of her wall posts or pictures...pretty sure you totally can!)

But what about those nemeses that are actually college educated? Like the one whose Facebook profile you used to happily stalk because you were good enough frenemies to be Facebook friends back when she separated all of her interests with hearts and they included "Ralph Lauren slim fit polos in every color" and "my pink rhinestoned Blackberry." Stupid bitch had to grow up, realize that was unprofessional and get a job AT FACEBOOK where she learned all about privacy settings. So how come I can still see her "Best of Vegas" album?! Bitch, close your mouth...and wipe that shit off your face, no one needs that much makeup...and don't even get me started on the bronzer.

When Facebook fails you, never fear, there's plenty of fun on the internet at large. Who doesn't love a gal whose Twitter name is actually Libby's a Princess, even if her tweets are blocked? But that's not nearly enough. No no, for extra bad days there's the single most vapid thing you've ever read. Personal favorite entry: her Yelp of Southwest Airlines written as if she is Charlotte York. No, not kidding. And when you thought it just couldn't get any better, there's her bio for SF's semi-grown up sorority (so that none of us ever have to really grow up), Spinsters.

Now, one might ask, "what incident precipitated this hatred." Doesn't matter. The hatred doesn't need a reason, it's a reward all it's own. Join me. Internet stalk incredibly hatable people you don't even know. You know you want it. Doooooooo ittttttttttt.

UPDATE: In chatting with Tami this morning, I realized that I left out perhaps the best part of loving to hate dear ole Libby: she was Miss Stanislaus County 2005. No. Joke. Stanislaus: a small but important step above Fresno.

People Ask Me Stupid Questions

Some of them are grammar and/or spelling related. Some of them are how to perform simple computer tasks, like sorting Excel spreadsheets. Some are ever so slightly more complicated technical tasks that are still well within Google's purview. After a recent annoyance, my boyfriend sent me this little gem.

Needless to say, Let Me Google That For You has replaced Kanye This in my heart.