Thursday, June 4, 2015

Dear Diary: Get a Load of This Guy

Dear Diary,

Today, I found a douchebag on the internet. I know, I'm a regular love child of Dora the Explorer and Steve from Blue's Clues. (once Dora is legal. Don't be gross, Diary.)

And before you get judgey about me being so judgey allow me to say that I am trying to be less judgey. A person can't be discerned to be a douchebag from one thing put up on the internet. Everyone should get the benefit of the doubt, and rather than being called a douchebag we should be labelled as a stranger who said/wrote a douchebag thing. It may be a momentary lapse or a comment requiring further context. That's what I would want for myself.

But this guy was a douche. I looked into it after I saw this tweet.

One thing that bugs the crap out of me is when someone telling people that they are using social media incorrectly. This gentleman is telling Metro Rail Info that they shouldn't send promotional tweets onto their own account. STOP USING YOUR TWITTER ACCOUNT IN A MANNER THAT YOU SEE FIT! I WILL TELL YOU HOW TO TWITTER! I assume his brain must be typing on the brain keyboard like I assume they have in the upcoming Disney/Pixar film Herman's Head Except for Kids and It Will Probably Have You Sniveling With Emotion As You Exit the Theater. I hate to go to bat for a metropolitan mass transit social media coordinator, but mind your goddamn business. Is having one in six tweets not be specifically about train functionality affecting your commute in a meaningful way that you feel you should scold the organization for not providing the content you expect from them? (I dunno, Dennis, is reading his tweet worth spending 45 minutes of your evening anxiously typing at a keyboard when you could be doing something productive? Yes, Diary, it is.) 

It would be like if the 49ers sent a congratulatory tweet to the Giants on winning the World Series and I responded, "Please, keep it football related. I don't follow you to hear about baseball." I like the "please" too. You aren't being polite. You're being bossy and nosy. (I called a man bossy. Score one for feminism.)

You see this crap on Tumblr too. (Don't roll your eyes at me, Diary). People calling out others for not following their own moral code for reblogging stuff. Do not reblog my stuff if you're X type of blog. You have to keep my original tags. Do I? Is that in the terms of service? I didn't realize this was nerd baseball* and that I had to follow all of your unwritten rules. I'm pretty sure that if the program I'm using allows me to do something, then it's okay if I do it. If you don't like it then...well, nothing. You just have to deal with your feelings. 

Okay, but how do I know this guy IS a douchebag and didn't just send the tweet OF a douchebag? Allow me to present his twitter bio.

Before, I dig into this assemblage of semicolons and random phrases, one more word about Twitter Comptrollers staying on message:
I want to harass this guy every time he tweets about something that isn't beer and Iceland.

"Just saw The Avett Brothers in concert. So much fun."
"@toolbag. Please don't tweet about concerts unless it is to say what beer you drank at a Sigur Rós show."

The moment I knew that I could never be friends with this person was the moment after I looked up the definition of bon vivant. I had a general idea that it meant foppish nancy-boy. At least that's who I thought used it. You know, people like Oscar Wilde and people he mocked.

Well I was wrong. It means a person who enjoys a sociable and luxurious lifestyle. What a stupid term. Who doesn't enjoy luxury and being social? Ted Kaczynski is who. Do you have to be currently living a sociable and luxurious lifestyle to qualify as a bon vivant? And if you aren't then you're just an aspiring bon vivant. This is the same as saying "I enjoy the finer things in live." No shit? Who doesn't like nicer things? It's an empty self-description. Really? You wouldn't rather have a shittier couch?

You don't learn anything about a person when they tell you that they like sheets with high thread counts and driving sports cars. Everyone enjoys that stuff. You aren't special or interesting. You know who is interesting? A person who says they really like a Sam Adams six-pack while watching their neighbors shoot off fireworks on the Fourth of July. That says something about their personality. It says that person is chill as hell, and I'd rather hang out with them instead someone breaking down where the best caviar comes from. (Is it Iceland?) Because I assume everyone I meet would get a kick out of the high roller's suite at Caesar's Palace and a bottle of Dom.

Identifying as a bon vivant is just a way of admitting that you're fussy and high maintenance. Also, you're doing Twitter wrong.

* I realize that fantasy baseball is the real nerd baseball.

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