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Fan Me, Man

Gesundheit,

Yep, I'm still a bit under the weather. But I'm doing the sensible thing today and posting one I had drafted. Clever, eh? Pity I didn't think of that like, two days ago, rather than trying to write through the Fever. Whatever. Enjoy.

The observant amongst you may have noticed I have a compulsion sidebar shuffling tendency. I like to move things around, change my labels, add to my button collection (Am I missing anyone's? Let me know). Pop quiz- I recently deleted a button, anyone notice? That was in protest. Protest against a certain site that runs challenges, then doesn't announce the winners, then doesn't respond to emails, and apparently doesn't do winner's tiles anymore. The name of the site in question may or may not rhyme with Frog Kiss. Anyone? Anyone at all? Jellybeans for you if you got it.

Anyway. Sorry, what was I talking about, before I got side tracked by being a bitch? Sidebar, buttons... ahh, that's right, buttons. The observant RRSAHMer may have noticed I have a brand spanky shiny new one there on the right. It's a FaceBook button. That's right, a FaceBook button. RRSAHM has it's very own fan page. I will include the link just on the not-so-off chance that the FaceBook button may actually be broken at the time I publish this. That would be embarrassing.

Please feel free to "Like" my page. Unfortunately, FaceBook has changed the rules (they seem to do that a lot, don't they?), and you don't "Become a Fan" anymore. The action of 'Liking' feels more 'lightweight', they tell me. And that's good. Because I take Becoming a Fan on FaceBook so seriously. Especially when it comes to pages like Panicking when your finger gets stuck in something stupid.

Whatever. It does, however, make this DeMotivational poster much less amusing. Ah well.

demotivational posters

Now, when I first created this page a couple of weeks ago, I sent out invites to all my one hundred and eighty something friends to join. It actually took me two days to figure out how to do that, but I persevered. And I was duly rewarded. About 45 of them actually joined up- yay! The rest, I'm assuming, either-

a) Don't actually know who I am, but Friended to increase their friend count.

b) Hate me, but Friended to increase their friend count

c) Don't check their requests anymore because they are so bloody sick of receiving virtual drinks, teddy bears and flowers, which just ticks you off because no one ever buys you stuff In Real Life.

I dunno. If I had sent an invite to myself, I wouldn't be my own Fan. I fall firmly into the thrid category.

Whatever. The one person I did think would respond, go to the page, press my button, was The Man. I sent his invite. I waited, like a 15 year old listening for her mobile phone text alert. One day. Two days. Three. What is going on here? Time for Confrontation.

Me :"Hey, Man, did you join my FaceBook fan page?"
Him: "Uh, yeah?"
Me: "Uh, no."
Him: "Oh. I musta deleted it or something. Send it again?".

So I deign to resend the bloody thing to him. One day. Two days. Look, I'm not going to retype the whole last two paragraphs,so just use your imagination and pretend I've copied and pasted it here, OK? OK. Because we have exactly the same conversation over again.

And, again, I bow, genuflect, and resend the request.

And the outcome, I hear you ask, Constant Follower, waiting there with bated breath?

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Blah.

So, for today, my comments section is becoming a virtual petition. If you think the Man should join his wife's FaceBook page, show his support, stand behind her (like a silent fart), then let your voice be heard. Leave a comment. Tell The Man- join. Or else. Your wife may just leave you for the Home Ice Cream man. Or the short guy from Top Gear.

Damn The Man. Save the page. (Well, not really. But doesn't that just sound so cool?)