Etiquette and Facebook Part 9 – Not Now, Not F*cking Ever!

I know, I’ve covered this vaguely before but today it deserves a whole post of it’s own. If you would turn to the front page of your Facebook account …

I know at least three of you just ducked and a couple others are possibly gaping at the screen wondering if the person who sent this friendly message with invitation has burst suddenly into flame by the sheer power of my mind … she can only wish …

We all have one, some us more than that. How many of yours have tried to friend you? Welcome to the fucked up minds of your childhood tormentors.

Just what, after over 20 years of no blessed contact, is she thinking?

Oh Sonal, remember when you had those lovely braids … your hair was so long
(down to my knees, do bear in mind that I’m only 5ft now, so imagine how teeny I was back then – cute, I tell you!) that your mum plaited them into two little loops on either side of your head … so handy to yank really hard and then run away. Remember those times? How you cried and yet couldn’t do anything because my mum was your teacher, who you really liked but didn’t think would believe you if you said anything against me … oh the dilemmas of seven year olds (don’t worry you only looked like you were four). How we used to laugh. And then one day to stop the pulling your mum put your plaits around your head like Princess Leia (that’s what the boys called you when she did that) and we though it would be fun for you to be our little horsie … like Rainbow Bright, but you couldn’t be Rainbow Bright, you had to be the horse. Or my little pony, if you prefer … not that my little pony did brown ones as we would often remind you, silly Sonal. Ah fun times!

Why, WHY, WHY do you think I would ever want to be friends with you?


3 Responses to “Etiquette and Facebook Part 9 – Not Now, Not F*cking Ever!”

  1. Ugh. Apparently she didn’t learn proper grammar while she was busy pretending you were a horse. Horrid.

  2. Charlotte Says:

    Ugh. Why on earth would she even send that? In what fucked up way is that okay?

  3. It wasn’t the actual act of the invite that makes the whole affair retarded (bullies tend to be so self centred that they can’t quite believe that people don’t actually like them) … it was that she actually went as a far as to make a fond connection with “we used to ride around pretending that you were a horse” without thinking wait a second, that memory sounds a little bit nasty.

    And yes, her inability to navigate basic grammar and spelling does give me some comfort these many years later.

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