DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT FUCKING MISERABLE SONOFABITCHING FACEBOOK!!! I’m in a club at a university. For most of the 16 years that I’ve been going I’ve helped run the stupid thing. Most of our current members are younger than I am now. So of course they are in love with stupid fucking Facebook. Being in club admin, I just now had to sign up for Facebook to keep up with club events. Something I have avoided like the dirty goat felching plague it is from the day it slithered into existence. We have a perfectly good forum. Works the same as the Dope. Post a thread, talk to people. Will they use it? NO. They’re too good for a mere forum. It has to be that cock sucking asshole magnet Facebook.
Let me tell you something, you whiny, stuck up little precious bitches. I DIDN’T WANT TO HAVE FACEBOOK IN ANY PART OF MY LIFE!! I don’t want people to be able to find me. Eighteen years ago I left most of the shitheads I knew in the dust and could not have been happier about it. I don’t even want them to know that I still exist. I know all about the privacy settings and shit. I don’t care. Since this is a business thing I had to use my real name. My name is out there for all the former nuisances in my life to see and poke at. RRRRAAAAAAHHH! HELL! To Hell with Facebook and the idiots who won’t let me just get what I need from it and leave without signing up. I would give you some kind of flaming, acidic compusyphylis if I could. Fuckers.
This definitely seems like a reasonable amount of anger to have over a website where you don’t have to interact with anyone you don’t feel like interacting with.
About the one part I had equal parts dislike and like was maintaining the club sports page once we got one. For decent exposure, you need to post at least once weekly. And if there was something going on in related club or organizations that my page “liked”, I made sure to share those, as that was a way of promoting events that would help us or increase members, or be worshops, etc.
I am curious, since in my university, to be a club officer you have to be a student… have you been a student for the last 16 years, or are you the faculty mentor?
I don’t know - it seems like many organizations these days organize things through Facebook, or at least have a major Facebook presence. It’s just the way things are sometimes, I suppose.
OP, if you don’t want annoying people from your past to contact you on Facebook, you can block them.
I pit Face book for many reasons. Being an annoying time waster that people feel the need to pester me about joining all the time is one. There are many others. Members are included at the top of the second paragraph.
Since when does it cost money?
??? Right back at you. Ooooh, I want some info from a supposedly PUBLIC page! I’m such a bad person.
I am not a student or faculty, just mentor and mostly the only one willing to actually get off my ass and get things done. All but a few of the kids want to show up, have fun, be rude and inattentive (or absent) during the business part of the meeting, then avoid helping anyway they can. That’s a rant for another day.
I know. As I said though, I don’t even want them remembering that I exist. I don’t want to be reminded of their existence, either. The nightmares and other issues are mostly gone and I’d like to keep it that way.
You can also use someone else’s account, or the club’s email address (I’m assuming it has one). And when you sign up or write on the pages, it will be the “page logo” that will be shown, not your profile picture (unless you toggle with it).
Then there are the people who just don’t get it. DO NOT WANT. OK? I have my reasons. I stated some of them. I don’t want it in my life. I hate it. It’s not like there are no alternatives and it’s not even practical for half of the things we need.
I feel the same way about FB and ran into the same problem with my gamming group, I was the only one that didn’t use it. The problem; using FB was the easiest way to set up gamming sessions. So I relented, and just made up an alias based on one of my character names.
