Took me awhile to accept Facebook. But then I began reconnecting with people from my past, folks I never woulda found, even by hiring a private dick. Of course, the second I think “How cool is this?” I wake up one morning to find people have been waging a holy war on my wall all night. WTF?
88 comments off one stupid good night wish. Two dudes goin’ at it like one was Joe Pesci and the other had just told him to go get his shoeshine box!
So I’m readin’ through this like most guys watch a chick fight — too entranced to do anything to stop it. Finally, I close the book with: “I appreciate all your passion.
“But as my Mom would say, ‘That’s why we can’t have nice things!’ “
I figure stuff like that’s gonna happen now and then, especially when you get two Italians who got their own ideas about how things are. So what happens? Last week I put up what I think is a humorous line, and some jamoke accuses me of stealing it from another comic. Ding! Ding!
Didn’t take long for Gina, one of my Italian Chick sistahs to jump in like ravioli into a pot of boiling water.
“Hey, here is a link to that quote,” she writes. “It was Sharon Stone.”
So I’m laughin’ my ass off watching the online version of mudwrestling when they start pulling out foreign objects. Before you knew it, my peeps were on this brother like my aunts tryin’ to take home the centerpiece from my second cousin’s wedding.
Sorry, fight fans, but someone had to put an end to this. I asked the group to give numbnuts a collective bye-bye, then I whacked him – OK, I deleted him.
But it wasn’t easy, believe me. Imagine if in real life you have an argument with the gas station attendant, so you press a button and BAM! Deleted. Worse yet, he gets you first!
I tell you this, yet it all compares to the latest and apparently the greatest of my Facebook adventures: discovering “How to ‘Memorialize’ the Facebook Pages of the Recently Deceased”
See, people set up their pages. Then they die of horrible diseases. Or they walk in front of a bus. A piano falls on them. Or two of ’em get into a fight on Facebook and they fill each other full o’ holes with a pair of .22s.
Whenever there’s a murder or a dead body that’s been in rigor more than a few days, they have to send in a special crew in hazmat suits to clean up the mess. Facebook, on the other hand, washes its own hands.
So here’s the new deal: In order to ‘memorialize’ a profile, a user must prove that he or she had a relationship with the departed person, which can be done by providing the person’s e-mail address or date of birth. Next, you’ll need to send Facebook a link to a news article or obituary confirming the death. This is necessary, presumably, to discourage pranksters from ‘memorializing’ still-living friends (these kids today….!).
Once this is confirmed, personal information, like telephone numbers, will be removed, and the profile will be hidden from anyone who isn’t a confirmed friend. This way, only those close to the deceased can visit the page and write on his or her wall. To protect against hackers, the profile will be locked from all log-ins, too.
Which, if you think about it, means that you can continue social networking after you’re dead. Maybe you could even get into an argument with an equally brain-dead poster while I’m sawing wood under the covers.
Tell you what, though. If I wake up and find status updates from an actual stiff, I’m gonna check myself straight into the looney bin. Then I can update my status from there:
“Checkers today. Jello tomorrow. Didja hear the one about the priest, the rabbi and the hooker…?”
Reviewers have raved about Maryann’s music & standup. She’s opened for Joy Behar and Ray Romano, and has played The Laugh Factory, Broadway Comedy Club and Dangerfield’s. She has a CD out and will be featured on Danny Aiello’s upcoming album, “City of Light.” Judging from the looks of the packed houses, she’ll also be staging plenty more performances with the ITALIAN CHICKS, whose show has been called “part meatball, part cannoli.” For more on Maryann, the group, where they’re performing & how to get tickets, click here:
Tell ’em CLIFFVIEWPILOT sent you.
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