Your 15 minutes Have Been Extended...

Dear Facebook,

I've got your number, the jig is up, it occurred to me the other day, that you, are in fact the people's tabloid. You are not, as you constantly claim,( Dear God how many times can one manifesto use the word share), a social networking site. You're a tabloid, straight up, a tabloid for people who aren't famous, but are undoubtedly notorious, especially after a certain party on Friday night, thank Jehovah she tagged her, I mean, what would we have talked about for the rest of the week if she hadn't? Has anyone seen my book...?

You are a gossip magazine for the masses. Who drank what, who fell over, who wore what to which party? Cheated on who, with whom, who was single, got in a relationship, got out of a relationship only to get into a relationship with someone I share 30 mutual friends with and have never met. Hell, I don't even have 30 friends, not if we are to take friends to mean, people you would do anything for and can trust with everything. If I met me in real life, I would be very suspicious indeed of my 219 friends, 219 friends, seriously, who has time for that many friends, I have a job, a life, 24 to watch...

So I'm thinking, maybe you're being a little ambitious with the use of the word book in your title. I get Facemag doesn't have quite the same ring to it, I appreciate the addictive nature of your existence, paging Betty Ford, paging Betty Ford, come in Betty, but sweet Gepetto in heaven, I want to be a real girl not a virtual one. So I just wanted you to know, while I have fallen prey to your considerable charms, I can quit anytime I want....Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go, someone, somewhere, we may have met in a bar, who knows, is poking me...

Yours sincerely,