I hate people who take countless photos of themselves then post them on Facebook.
If one camera flash can be measured as one brain cell lost, the most snap-happy offenders have become so blinded by that dazzling white light, and therefore so out of touch with reality, that they have fooled themselves into believing it’s their God given right to share their “beauty” and “hotness” with the cyber world.
They’ve become so beguiled by the image of their exposed face, blank stare and head tilt, that they believe they’re treating their cyber friends by adding 27 more self-portraits to some cringe-worthy album called, “I Feel Pretty 2day” or worse, “A Day in the Life of Me, Myself & I”—Urgh! Well, I’ve got some news for these deluded androids. Ogling at your amateur head shots does NOT make someone’s day—a Youtube video of a cat, a cutting e-card insult, a Sweet Brown auto-tuned remix does.
Even with holiday albums called “I Heart Paris” or “Party in the USA” it’s easy to doubt these self-obsessed morons have left their bedroom, let alone the country. There’s no Eiffel Tower, Statue of Liberty or Golden Gate Bridge to be seen—just the same face pulling the same vacant “cheeky”, “sexy”, “cute”, “surprised” and “innocent” expressions. Sometimes I fantasise about pulling out my camera on one of these people and capturing them when they’re sneezing, yawning, vomiting, shitting, or in various other stages of unsexiness—just to pop that “I’m so pretty” bubble they live in, and bring them down to earth with a painful thud.
And why do people think that selfies “aren’t as bad” if they’re taken with Instagram? Regardless of the arty-retro filter and frame you use, it’s still a self-portrait of a person whose vanity is completely unjustified. Let me just tell it like it is: if you were as hot as you think you are, professional photographers would be taking your photo, not your index finger. Get over yourselves and save Facebook for the things that really matter—photos of sandwiches, cocktails and funny graffiti.
For the record, I’ve deleted all but one Facebook friend who champions the selfie, and that’s only because seeing her face in my Facebook notifications fuels me with the resentment I need to write this blog. I guess you could call her my muse.
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In fact, I hate a lot of people - strangers mostly - because every day they insist on pissing me off with their irksome habits