Dear Poke Button,
I hate you.
I know my anger is a little displaced, but the powers of rationalization leave me unable to blame the real culprit (as in anyone who has ever used the poke because the list includes me). I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong, but you’re an addictive little bitch.
Everyone uses you, unholy Poke Button. Who could resist the temptation of the Poke? You know you are just going to be disappointed in the end with an unsatisfactory message of “I don’t know what to say to you, but I’d like your attention on me.” I hate you, Poke Button. If it weren’t for you, I would cancel my Myspace account. I would happily give up the annoying spam, 7896 character comments, and random people who message me about how “pretty” I am just for an add (liars). I was ready to make full commitment to Facebook as my only social networking site when you ruined it. You are Facebook’s little 35 year-old bastard child that still lives in his parents basement because you lack the social skills to net a sugar momma. How am I supposed to commit to something with a defect like that?
I hate you because people choose you over messaging. You’re killing the world of communication with your misunderstood antics. Who has time to write three little words like “Please friend me,” or “nice profile pic,” or “when and where,” or even incoherent babble when they could just as easily make themselves known with an awkward Poke?
Pokey, maybe I hate you because I don’t understand you. Deep down, I don’t want to understand. You make me sick, Pokey. You and you’re little message that hovers above my head look like the little piece of cheese one might use to coax a mouse out of it’s hole. Sorry, Pokey, but this mouse would rather stay inside.
-Roxy
P.S. Yes, this does mean that at the time of this writing, I disown the poke button. I am not a dead body in the middle of nowhere, waiting for the day some poor, backwoods boy who comes straight out of a Mark Twain novel strolls by with a pocket full of curiosity and the subtle, life-checking technology that is a stick. I am most certainly alive, just um… “really tired.”
Labels: don't worry: it sucked just as much the first time I wrote it, pokey, unreasonable hatred