A Fan of Becoming a Fan

When you’re stuck in a cage all day you have to find small, mindless tasks to amuse and distract yourself. One of those ways is this blog, and a more popular way is checking face book obsessively every 3 minutes, waiting for people to status update. My favorite thing is when someone who doesn’t update often posts something, because I sort of forgot they were my friend and that reminds me to go to their profile and check every single one of their pictures and read all their info and infer things about theirs lives even though we probably haven’t spoken in years.

Actually, I lied. My favorite thing is when one of these stalking adventures leads me to someone else who HAS A PUBLIC PAGE. Finding a public page is like winning the lottery, both unexpected and exhilarating. When I find a public page of someone I knew once upon a time I get lost in the moment and have to pull myself away. Like right now...

But that’s not what all this is about. What this is about is the complete and utter abuse of fan pages. I mean really? 3 of your friends are fans of sleeping! 4 of your friends are fans of sunshine! 7 of your fans are friends of breathing! Why do poeple feed the need to become a fan of something obvious and necessary for our survival? And then I start to wonder about myself, how did I become friends with these people? Apparently I’m a fan of becoming friends with unoriginal and easy amused people. Seriously, you need to tell everyone that you’re a fan of I hate Douchebags? That’s so weird because I looove douchebags. Oh, and to those 3 people (you know who you are), God does not need a fan page.
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