About a month ago, my brother calls me at work to ask how to use Facebook. A few hours later, he calls to say he was getting a flood of Friend Requests. The next day he calls to ask why all these people he didn’t know wanted to be his friend. Twenty-four hours after signing up, he was annoyed and swore he was going to stop accepting random friends.
Forty-eight hours later I received a text. He’d put Facebook on his cell phone. And couldn’t stop Facebooking.
So Monday, I get a text that he needs me to join his Mafia Wars family on FB — which is some kind of annoying FB game he’s already emailed and Facebooked me about — that I totally do NOT get and do NOT want to play.
I text him this:
U have a serious FB problem. Seek help.
He texts back:
Dude. More FB lingo.
Lolol. ROFL. LMAO.
Try this one on for size. DILLIGAF.
I give up.
The phone rings. I answer.
Me: I got nothin’.
Him: Does It Look Like I Give A Fuck!! Bwahaha!
Next day, I’m seated at a board room table with four business associates. My cell rings once. My cell rings twice. I get a text. It’s my brother: Call me.
I, of course, think something must be up. Something serious. I excuse myself, walk to the lobby, and call him back.
Him: Um, I need your help. It’s kind of important.
Me: What?? What is it??
Him: I need you to join my mafia.
Me: Dude. You got me out of a meeting for THAT?!?
Him: C’mon, all you have to do is sign up. I emailed like 30 people — I just need one more!
Me: O. M. G.
Him: (laughing) You just need to come up with a name for yourself.
Me: DILLIGAF. My name is DILLIGAF. I’m having a t-shirt made.
Which, speaking of … remember the Bamboo t-shirt conversation last week? QB actually DID have some t-shirts made. (That’s her below.)