As I've said many times before, the co-main reason I got onto Facebook (I do want to remain connected with my actual friends) is to find and befriend hot women on the Internet. I think most of those are bodybuilders, but I initially signed up to look for Playboy Playmates and college girls who showed their bodies in the magazine. It's an extension of my previous hobby of looking up those college girls on the Internet in college. Now, I wish I could have done it under an alias, but Mark Zuckerberg doesn't like that, so instead of stopping, I just decided to marry my perverted side with the real me. Russian bots are fine; me following hot women under the safety of anonymity are not.
People in social media do spill their secrets and expose their real selves. That's what I was looking for, and it was the main reason I wanted to befriend these hot babes. But while looking through pictures of their kids and their pets, I started to notice that some of them are, shall we say, human. Well, I don't think that's the right word. Some of them are quite normal. And some of them are fucking crazy bitches.
There are two of them that I got sick of last week. Well, they got sick of me, actually. Wendy Hamilton (Miss .. oh, who gives a shit) was a woman who never posted pictures of herself right now, although she uploaded pictures of herself when she modeled. She was more of a person who would post photos of her sons, and updated her status to talk about them. But some of her other status updates was just her complaining. One update I remember was a road rage incident where she and the other driver exchanged middle fingers. The other one is Fawna McLaren (also don't give a rat's ass when her centerfold was) who would sometimes rant on Facebook. Usually it had a political bent; like Hamilton, McLaren was a rank conservative. I didn't mind that because, hey, they're Playboy Playmates.
It came to a head last week when Hamilton posted another pic of her as a model. Now, I got the idea at this point that she would rather not upload a photo of her as she looks now. Nevertheless, I decided I would comment that I would like to see one.
And oh God, she fucking went nuts! "How dare you!" she cried, and then she got into this defensive crouch of, "I will post what I want! Why do you keep asking me for a photo of me now?" (this is the first time I ever asked for a current shot). And then McLaren started egging her on: "Oh, he's just rude! You should just unfriend her, girl." I had an idea from their past updates that they were dramatic, if not unstable. But when I saw their string of comments to my innocuous request, ending with Hamilton saying, "Ugh! Just delete this!" I stopped caring about being able to fantasize and masturbate to these two women. And so I defriended them.
Well, I blocked McLaren. I swear I friended her, but we weren't friends, and even if we were, her wingwoman bullshit would have convinced me to cut her loose. I then blocked Hamilton, then thought I was being Franken-level harsh, so I decided to un-block her but stay not friends. But then I thought, "Wait, I don't want to be bothered by this kook ever again," even though I watched her Playboy video, and I still remember her turning around and bending over to show off her fine ass from under her short skirt and she turned back to the camera to smile and ... anyway, I decided to make this permanent, so after Facebook's mandatory 48-hour "cooling off period," I re-blocked her.
It seemed like a very heavy decision at the time. But I think me forgetting for a whole week about what I did and just getting around to blogging about it now is testament to the fact that I really didn't care about "losing" those two as "friends." And my life, as hectic and unhappy as it is, really isn't affected by my blocking these Playmates. I'm OK. In fact, I think it's good I took steps, superficial as they may be, to removing toxic and negative people out of my life.
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