Garbage in garbage out
—“SuckerBird, you’re forcing me to ‘share’ something, I don’t wanna ‘share’!”
Engage old waazoo = “Who programs this stuff?”
“Garbage in garbage out!”
My wife fell into programming computers while I was still driving bus. A fellow bus-driver’s son was also a computer-programmer, which is from where I got garbage in garbage out!
Anyone reading this blog knows how exasperated I get with Facebook. Every time I fire it up I get mired in the “Slough-of-Despond.”
Twenty minutes become three hours.
Secretive unannounced interface changes, and on and on.
Hairballs galore! And I don’t have all day.
How I got to that “share” option I have no idea. I was trying to fiddle a video that wouldn't play.
I tried this and I tried that, but didn’t see a “cancel.”
The fact I even have a Facebook at all is due to a fast-one by SuckerBird and his cronies.
And then of course there’s SuckerBird etc. secretly trolling my iPhone contacts to suggest “friends.”
I only have 55 Facebook “friends,” and I could “unfriend” perhaps half. I don’t feel 89 bazilyun Facebook “friends” mean I’m worth something.
Every time I fire it up, I gotta figger it out.
And it seems like what comments or “likes” you get are no more than 3 to 5 words, like “CONGRATS,” or “you go girl!”
WRONG CENTURY, I presume: born in 1944 = well before “try it and see what happens.”
Every time I fire it up, I gotta engage guile-and-cunning.
Plus I have a SmartPhone eager to make pocket-calls if I dare breathe on it the wrong way. —How many times have I corrected some unintended video call?
Wondrous time-saving technology = twenty minutes become three hours.
Lawn awaits, mail goes unopened, or laundry waits too, until I finish wrastling with time-saving technology.
Every night, I’m lucky to get to bed by midnight, because I had to fiddle time-saving technology.
I managed to find an out on Facebook, so I didn’t hafta “share” what I didn’t wanna “share.”
Wrastle this, and wrastle that = “try it and see what happens!”
SuckerBird and his cronies are always steering me into some time-consuming hairball.
Engage old waazoo = “Who programs this stuff?”
“Garbage in garbage out!”
My wife fell into programming computers while I was still driving bus. A fellow bus-driver’s son was also a computer-programmer, which is from where I got garbage in garbage out!
Anyone reading this blog knows how exasperated I get with Facebook. Every time I fire it up I get mired in the “Slough-of-Despond.”
Twenty minutes become three hours.
Secretive unannounced interface changes, and on and on.
Hairballs galore! And I don’t have all day.
How I got to that “share” option I have no idea. I was trying to fiddle a video that wouldn't play.
I tried this and I tried that, but didn’t see a “cancel.”
The fact I even have a Facebook at all is due to a fast-one by SuckerBird and his cronies.
And then of course there’s SuckerBird etc. secretly trolling my iPhone contacts to suggest “friends.”
I only have 55 Facebook “friends,” and I could “unfriend” perhaps half. I don’t feel 89 bazilyun Facebook “friends” mean I’m worth something.
Every time I fire it up, I gotta figger it out.
And it seems like what comments or “likes” you get are no more than 3 to 5 words, like “CONGRATS,” or “you go girl!”
WRONG CENTURY, I presume: born in 1944 = well before “try it and see what happens.”
Every time I fire it up, I gotta engage guile-and-cunning.
Plus I have a SmartPhone eager to make pocket-calls if I dare breathe on it the wrong way. —How many times have I corrected some unintended video call?
Wondrous time-saving technology = twenty minutes become three hours.
Lawn awaits, mail goes unopened, or laundry waits too, until I finish wrastling with time-saving technology.
Every night, I’m lucky to get to bed by midnight, because I had to fiddle time-saving technology.
I managed to find an out on Facebook, so I didn’t hafta “share” what I didn’t wanna “share.”
Wrastle this, and wrastle that = “try it and see what happens!”
SuckerBird and his cronies are always steering me into some time-consuming hairball.
• The “Slough-of-Despond” is from John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress (1678). Think “swamp-of-despair.”
posted by BobbaLew at 6:03 PM
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