Things I’m Sick of Seeing On Facebook

Apparently our generation is now the youngest generation on Facebook. The kiddos that came after us have replaced it with Instagram, Twitter, Vine, Snapchat, and whatever other app-du-jour with which my aging self is currently out of touch.

As a marketing professional, part of my job is to visit social media multiple times a day. As a result, I have come up with a list of things that I am sick and fucking tired of seeing on Facebook. Seriously, if you’re one of these people who post this shit all the time, find the nearest cliff and throw your phone off of it.

Food Pictures


Well look at you, you little tech maven you. You’ve discovered that Instagram integrates seamlessly with Facebook. You’ve also learned how to follow a recipe you found on Pinterest! I guess you deserve another trophy on your Wall of Gaylord. Do I care that you made Chicken a la King on a Monday night budget of $3.75? Nope. Roasted spaghetti squash with balsamic drizzle on Wednesday? Again, nope. What about Chipotle-style burrito bowls with half the calories of the real thing? For the last time, I don’t give a hot damn. If you want to spend all that time blowing your paycheck at Whole Foods, slaving over the stove after a 9-hour workday, and then doing the dishes for another hour, that’s your business. Quite frankly though, I don’t care and you’re taking precious space in my newsfeed away from things like which bar everyone is meeting at tonight or who got fat.

Disney Pictures


I had quite a few friends who interned at Disney while in college. I also had some who did the whole “Princess Wedding” thing there. For some reason, even though these people remain childless, their obsession with Snow White, Simba, Peter Pan, and Buzz Lightyear remains fervent even into their mid-to-late 20s. So much so in fact, that they feel the need to post photos of every ride line they stand in, every Starbucks drink they hold next to Minnie Mouse, and the Cinderella’s castle that I’m pretty sure every person on planet earth has at least seen photos of, if not in person. To put it bluntly, I know what the fuck Disney World looks like – I’ve been there a few times myself – I don’t need to see photos of your trip every five minutes. Put the phone away and actually enjoy your damn vacation for a change.

Workout Routine Stats


Fitbit, MapMyFitness, Nike+ and all the rest – yes, Bolen, even CrossFit. I commend you for tracking your activity and therefore and least putting on the appearance that you’re attempting to get healthy and physically fit. Some of the routines are more intense than others; some are glorified pedometers. Your fitness should be a personal matter between you and either your personal trainer, workout buddy, bathroom scale or yes, even your CrossFit teammates. Does it matter to me that you’re showing me up by proving that you’re actually doing more exercise than 12oz curls on game day? Not really. That being said, I don’t need to stare at 29 posts in a row about how many miles you walked, burpees you did, sit-ups you completed, or whatever other insane exercise is part of your current regimen. I simply don’t care.

Dr. Who Memes


If I have to see one more cartoon, photo, inside joke, or other meme about Dr. Who, that stupid blue telephone box, or something called a Dalek, I might just put my fist through the computer. I mean seriously? Are you THAT much of a fanboy/girl that you insist on posting this shit on a daily basis? Get a life, bro. You’re an “adult” now. If you think that hot chick at the bar is going to be turned on by your geek-tastic convo about some dude who time-travels in a phone booth and never ages, you need a serious wake-up call. At least make the effort to get a working knowledge of a show women are likely to watch – and there’s no shame in asking for advice on what shows to brush up on either. Have a little dignity. A blue phone booth doesn’t exactly scream dignity.

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Spaceman Spiff

Now a graduate with a few years of business "experience", Spiff didn't exactly turn into the interplanetary explorer extraordinaire he had hoped to become. Instead, he spends his days as a cynical desk jockey, moonlighting as a Contributing Writer for PGP and marching ever closer to the big 3-0, which has only fueled his transition from quarter-life crisis straight into thrisis.

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