Why does the advertising algorithm on Fascistbook assume that, just because I’m a male, I’m interested in looking at ugly, horrid, disgusting, obstrusive, scantily-clad women? Just because men are by nature this way doesn’t mean that I am! I absolutely hate it! I feel like sticking my fist through my CRT monitor, through my wireless connection, through the Ethernet cable to my DSL modem, through the cable, through varied switches and into an Internet backbone, out through a network of similar devices, and out of the LCD monitor of whoever owns Fascistbook to tear off his FACE. Yes. His face.
It’s 11:33, I’m tired having stayed up until 4:00 AM this morning and then having woken up to Julie singing to me at 7:00 AM, and I was just disturbed by some fascist images on Fascistbook that are utterly annoying and disgusting. I was feeling wonderful having been to the temple beforehand, but now I feel like the fires of Place are brewing in my soul, and that I, if given a butter knife, could, with a happy smile and a cheerful countenance, commit the slow, painful, and very enjoyable murders of each person who works for Fascistbook. Don’t make me go into detail of how that butter knife would be utilized, especially if you’re one of those people who feels ill after hearing of the blood, guts, and gore of other human beings being spilled– no, splattered– out upon the floor and all over the victims’ shirts.
I. Hate. Humans. Periodically.
Now, now. Gotta give some credit to the people who buy the ad space for said questionable ads in the first place.
Forgive me. It was written in the heat of the moment. Naturally I attribute most of the blame to those who designed the ad in the first place, but Fascistbook still is regarded with contempt in my mind.