Facebook and the Search for the Holy Vagina. A letter in excercise of Complaint.

I just drank out of yesterday’s beer instead of todays’. Does this mean I need help?

No matter.

I have constantly been told that as ‘an artist’ I should have a strong opinion and value about life so that, through art, I may change the world. I find it extremely difficult to find causes that I feel passionate about to the point that I might invite someone to piggyback on my soapy box.

I listen adamantly and politely to argument and persuasion, hold back mockery unless the opportunity is so boldly presented, listen to the next human that pleads opposite, and then go home to my stasis as an ignorant mass of carbon. In order to work on my evolution as either a passionate opinionated individual/ close-minded preachy asshole, I have a letter of exercise in complaint:

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Dear Facebook,

Thank you for constantly reminding me that I am alone.

On my profile I am plagued with giant billboards of intrigued Jewish girls, Christian girls and Taoist chicks. They have a false display of interest in me and it only gets my hopes up.  I truly doubt that they can see me, and if they did, they would only see my zombie-face hypnotized by the glow of the computer. I am also questioning how Christian this bitch might be if I can see ¾ of her areola popping out of her blouse. (that really isn’t a complaint) Although I appreciate the wide array of holy vaginal options, what makes you think that I would ever want to go out with somebody that actually knows what to think or believe in? ‘Opposites attract’. If that is true, than shouldn’t I be pining after a flounder or some other kind of flattened sea species?  They wouldn’t understand my jokes, although that would make it unanimous. Show me the sushi of my fantasies, effbee.

Who Would Jesus Do?

Haven’t you read any of my other interests, Facebook? Where are “girls that love crispy red grapes” or “girls that share a distaste for reality television and the people that watch it”? Or even getting to the point: “Brunettes with ghetto booties that like the arts and MIGHT let you sleep with them.” Do other people share this problem, or is it only me?

You have not successfully placed me into an appropriate advertising bracket. Thanks for constantly annoying me.

I understand that you need ads to receive money to keep your site up and running, and we share a symbiotic relationship because your work helps me advertise my petty drivel and musings to unsuspecting bored humans. So, I will not shut you down. YET. BUT! Effective Immediately, I would like relevant ads. I thought you knew me! We’ve been together for like six years now. I think we can work some of this out. I would like pictures of ducks, brunettes with ghetto booties and passion for the arts, and plentiful bowls of macaroni and cheese. Easy Mac has never broken my heart. If you can find a girl that smells like Mac N Cheese, all the better.

ALSO.

There is a little mark on my computer screen that I constantly try to erase because it disguises itself as an unintentional apostrophe.  Fix that asshole non-apostrophe, too.

Without Love,
Dola.

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Now that I have further proven to myself that I am indeed a million years old: My twenty-fourth birthday is this Saturday. And I know not what to do with myself. Note to self: write a to-do list, on that to-do list, write down to figure out what to do. Perhaps find something else to complain about publicly. I can write an anticipated entry about the horrors of growing old or the anguish of feeling obligated to have a good time.. well, where’s the surprise NOW?

I am having more and more trouble making this blog relevant to living life as an actor except proving that we are ego-centered. This is probably not an important lesson to learn.

“Now, four years after hearing all of the stereotypes claimed about actors, I can say with certainty, that they are all true.” –Ken HillWith Love,
Dola

Dang, just drank the wrong beer again. Why don’t I throw these things away?