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(Half) A Year in Facebook Statususes’s

December 28, 2009

I thought it would be fun to post a list of all my 2009 Facebook statuses. But as I worked on transcribing them I realized it would be a 7500-word post and the project would take five or six hours. Also, January was despicable and I refuse to acknowledge its occurrence. So here’s February through May. Quite a year, friends. Quite a year. Good times, bad times, hard decisions, easy decisions, bad weather, worse weather, weird conversations, even weirder conversations, and numerous cheques to numerous universities. A lot of the statuses have been reworked into blog posts, which is maybe kind of interesting and could conceivably qualify as artistic development, if you have really low standards in terms of what that phrase means to you.

Maybe I’ll compile June-December later this week. Anything’s better than packing. But meanwhile:


  • has the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse shoes. They’re on her feet RIGHT NOW.
  • is going to quit her coursepack coordination job and make money off predicting UFC outcomes.
  • thinks we could do better at the Fort.
  • wants spring to start immediately. The whole country has earned it. Fuck off, groundhog!
  • would write a conditional sentence if she could think of one.
  • is dismayed by the GSP greasing scandal. Although in a way it’s a moot point because he would have kicked Penn’s ass regardless. I mean, irregardless.
  • is heading out for some cheap groceries. She’s not coming home without at least 32 rolls of toilet paper.
  • got 16 double rolls, which is essentially the same thing as 32 rolls. Mission accomplished.
  • is going to marry Sweet Chili Heat Doritos.
  • finally got around to redeeming some of her 27,000 Visa points. Come to Mama, gift cards!
  • is one, two, three times a lady. But don’t bother her a fourth time.
  • is the cat that won’t cop out when there’s danger all about.
  • breaks you off a piece of that football cream.
  • is a real good sex person. She does it all the different ways.
  • is on her way to a dick meeting.
  • is in the dick meeting until 4:30. Then it ends. Then another one tomorrow.
  • is sick of Jason’s anti-council, pro-association politics.
  • can’t believe there’s another dick meeting all day today!
  • is sick of all these dick meetings. Three more until the weekend.
  • wonders if the dick meetings would be more tolerable if she had a dick. Although dicklessness doesn’t seem to be causing a problem for the other participants…
  • is going to attend one more dick meeting this week and that’s it.
  • is trying to weave various haunting images into some kind of plotline. And, unrelatedly, has another exciting plumbing challenge to solve!
  • should have done all kinds of things by now.
  • would have you all know that she still looks and acts like a perplexed 14-year-old.
  • has just realized that her newest and least decrepit pair of socks was purchased in Seattle in the summer of 2006.
  • makes it her business to keep things lively with gossip and dirty jokes.
  • hopes The Count will be making a guest appearance at today’s inventory proceedings. Word on the street is that he loves to count.
  • hopes a certain runty uniballed cat is ready to get chased around…
  • can’t believe how instantly depressed she becomes upon stepping into a mall. Another depressing thing is spending $70 on fucking SOCKS.
  • is pretty sure this weather isn’t fucking around.
  • thinks the only shit a person should take sitting down is the literal kind.
  • is either concocting a novel plot or going insane. There seems to be no practical difference.
  • has booked her flight for a certain five days in May. It’s not just a Blue Rodeo song anymore!
  • thinks she’s made a decision…
  • is building a coursepack-free future.
  • is pretty sure that the all-around fucking stupidness of today was the gods’ way of giving her decision a gold star.
  • does like the idea of more dipping areas…
  • and the People You May Know tool are now friends via the Tools You May Know tool.
  • hopes Jess’ wedding goes better in reality than in last night’s dream. A dinghy? No rehearsal? No hairstyling? Why?
  • is listening to two coworkers talk about their sex lives. No thanks, guys. No thanks.
  • doesn’t think Zeus should cry and have dandruff at the same time. Makes it hard to decide which coat to wear.
  • has been trying for over 72 hours to acquire a Ride of the Valkyries ringtone for her Virgin Phone. Why is it so difficult?
  • is groin-grabbingly transcendent.
  • is mentioning the berry crisp in her status so as not to forget to make it when she gets home tonight.
  • loves you; this you know / ‘cause her status tells you so.
  • has intelligent friends who are voluntarily going out to live in this weather for three days. Awesome.
  • has been deemed acceptable by the University of Calgary. Rum time! And psychology degree time!
  • is springing forward.
  • is of two minds as to whether to be on the fence about ambivalence.
  • just wants to be taken seriously as a comedian.
  • and three of your mom’s coworkers are now friends via the Awkward Relationships You Would Never Have Had to Worry About Before Facebook Existed tool.
  • likes her status.
  • wants a free sample. The proof is in the Poreef.
  • just saw the phrase “folded into the erotodidactic adoption program” in an old course outline and wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or nostalgic.
  • dares to hope that she’s looking at a five-day weekend here.
  • dares herself to eat the entire rest of the pan of puffed wheat cake.
  • is founding the Church of Jesus Christ the Bookstore Flooded. Act now and you can become one of the Hump Day Saints!
  • encourages everyone to wear rubbers tomorrow.
  • doesn’t think cheap crab sticks are the way forward.
  • doesn’t think Sport Chek is the way forward either. Here’s to you, McNally Robinson.
  • won’t be eating anything until high noon. Then: FIVE PLATES OF GINGER BEEF!!!!!
  • listens to way more gangsta rap than anyone realizes.
  • can’t believe the Ginger Beef isn’t open for lunch on Saturdays. That was without exaggeration the most traumatic piece of news she has ever received.
  • was born to do it. All you other dominatrices need to sit down and shut up. You may take notes if you like but she better not hear any goddamn pen scratching.
  • is saddened to announce the passing of C. Julius Caesar. The details are sketchy at this time, but it appears to have been some kind of execution type deal.
  • bids farewell to Seneca’s testicles.
  • took the “Which Quiz Will You Take” quiz and the result was: that one.
  • prefers corsets to coursepacks.
  • took the “Which sexually transmitted disease are you?” quiz and the result is: genital herpes.
  • took the What bodily function are you?” quiz and the result is: urination.
  • took the “Which Church Father are you?” quiz and the result is: Gregory of Nyssa.
  • took the “Which sex position are you?” quiz. The result is: doggy style.
  • took the “Which ancient poetic metre are you?” quiz. The result is: dactylo-epitrite.
  • took the “Which method of suicide are you?” quiz. The result is: pills and booze.
  • took the “Which internal organelle are you?” quiz. The result is: the islets of Langerhans.
  • took the “How many times will you reuse this joke?” quiz and the result is: at least 24.
  • took the “Which element are you?” quiz. The result is: molybdenum.
  • took the “Which food additive are you?” quiz. The result is: monosodium glutamate.
  • took the “What kind of fart are you?” quiz. The result is: silent but deadly.
  • took the “What time do you leave work?” quiz. The result is: 4:30.
  • took the “Which mythological creature are you?” quiz and the result is: the chimaera.
  • took the “Which Batman interjection are you?” quiz. The result is: vronk!
  • took the “Who let the dogs out?” quiz. The result is: The Baha Men.
  • took the “Which over-the-counter hemorrhoid remedy are you?” quiz. The result is: Anusol.
  • doesn’t care what anyone says—those Charmin bears are fucking disgusting.
  • puts the “pro-life” in proliferation.
  • took the “Which early 20th-century character trait are you?” quiz. The result is: gumption.
  • would need at least 193 profanities to fully describe her feelings about the little winter tableau out there.
  • just saw a guy snowshoeing down her street. This is egregious!
  • took the “What cheese are you?” quiz. The result is: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.
  • was going to update her status but then Erin’s status made her feel self-conscious.
  • and winter parted ways amicably, but then winter came back and was like, “Uh, my flight got cancelled, can I crash here?” Things are awkward between them now.
  • has decided to take the spellchecker up on its suggestion that she change her name to Meatman.
  • respectfully disagrees with Rick James that incense, wine, and candles constitutes a “freaky scene.”
  • looks pretty good from where you’re standing.
  • took the “What animal are you?” quiz. The result is: the cock. Then she took the “What toy are you?” quiz. The result is: balls.
  • is listening to Jeff Buckley and wondering how the fuck anyone could believe that Nickelback counts as music.
  • wonders where the hell global warming is when you need it.
  • is wishing herself a happy worst-hangover-of-her-life-iversary. Hard to believe it’s been four years!
  • is a tragedy waiting to happen, but she provides plenty of comedy in the meantime.
  • is the god of hell fire, and she brings you fire.
  • would like to dedicate that last status to anyone who was in the Social Sciences building this afternoon.
  • breaks hearts everywhere she goes. So she’s decided not to be a cardiologist.
  • thinks Facebook is the most elaborate illusion to have been visited upon humankind since geocentrism.
  • is happy to report that there’s more melting going on in the city of Calgary than in the hearts of all the smitten bisexual shepherds of the Theocritean corpus put together.
  • saw the best minds of her generation destroyed by Facebook.
  • thinks the female reproductive system needs to get with the times. The whole thing is an inefficient mess. Where are you when we need you, Japanese science?
  • took the “How many times must the cannonballs fly before they are forever banned?” quiz. The answer is: blowin’ in the wind.
  • promises not to harvest your sperm after you die.
  • feels it’s only sensible / To fear the things we find incomprehensible.
  • just bit the head off a big hollow chocolate Jesus. Happy Easter!
  • thinks TLC might as well change its name to the Strange Human Deformity Channel.
  • wonders if anyone else is weirded out by the sudden resurgence of piracy. It’s like medieval Europe out on the high seas these days.
  • tries to walk the fine line between obnoxious and really obnoxious.
  • wants to kick that Dyson vacuum guy square in the nuts. Hey, douchebag, watch my FOOT pivot on a ball.
  • doesn’t think enough people are using the word “cocksure.”
  • is applying for a bunch of summer writing workshops at SFU this summer. Stoked!
  • went to, but there were no naked chicks with weapons; it was just books and stuff.
  • distinctly remembers you promising her a rose garden.
  • took the “How’s it hangin?” quiz. The result is: low and lazy.
  • touches your bum. This is life.
  • is the Helen Keller of pinball.
  • wants the weather to go back to university. It needs more degrees.
  • puts the “it” in femininity.
  • is bored with Facebook and plans to join the hipper, more dynamic Crotchbook.
  • sometimes “wonders” if she uses quotation marks “correctly.”
  • doesn’t need to leave the country to work a broad.
  • is neither a brother nor a mother but is, nonetheless, stayin’ alive.
  • might as well go for a soda; nobody hurts and nobody dies. Which is more than can be said for the person lying under a glass coffee table with his pants down when it breaks from the weight of the person who’s just taken a crap on top of it.
  • is not, and never will be, thinking Arby’s.
  • has a reply for all the naysayers who have said over the years that pigs can’t fly: swine flu.
  • didn’t avoid the Noid. Now she’s pregnant.
  • literally blinds people with science.
  • is tired of manipulative Facebook statuses. Either tell the whole story or just write something idiotically hilarious and call it a day.
  • would rather have wine flu.
  • assumes this is just retribution for the great Man Flu epidemic that ravaged the pig population in the 18th century.
  • feels bad for Slaughterhouses One through Four. They get no play.
  • took the “What feminine hygiene product are you?” quiz. The result is: Massengill douche.
  • took the “Which suggestive household plumbing product are you?” quiz. The result is: Foaming Pipe Snake.
  • is pretty sure some if not all of her psychological defects can be directly attributed to her having been forced to country line dance to the Bee Gees’ “Jive Talkin’” in grade 10 phys. ed. You just don’t do that to human beings.
  • is glad she wore her waterproof jacket as it’s raining cats dogsque.
  • would be a fuck of a lot happier if she was drunk all the time.
  • gets a leg up on the pile and refinances her dreams.
  • defines “Webster’s dictionary” as a reference book published by the Merriam-Webster Company in which the words of the English language are listed in alphabetical order and their meanings and origins given.
  • digs that the word “awkward” is awkward and the word “monotonous” is monotonous.
  • is your ladder of opportunity to the future of tomorrow…TODAY.
  • puts the manatee in “humanity.”
  • thought the stank emanating from her cupboard was all in her mind. Then she found the liquefied potato from 2008.
  • then realized there was about half a cup of loose, uncooked macaroni in her backpack.
  • would welcome the return of the prodigal sun.
  • announced her imminent resignation at a team building workshop. Irony is her true and only love.
  • really rankles your cankles.
  • was discover to shocked that 10% of Caglarians have a leaning disability.
  • doesn’t want anything to do with MILF Island.
  • is at the top of her game today. Her game is sarcasm and laziness.
  • waives the sales, she’s saving up to save the whales.
  • is excited about the launch of, where academic bottomfeeders can woo potential soul mates via a series of verbless, ill-punctuated, abbreviation-based e-mails.
  • defies you to come up with a song with more key signature changes than “Seasons in the Sun.” That song should have been called “Key Signature Changes in the Sun.”
  • doesn’t need Facebook to recommend friends to her. If you and she have 20 friends in common and she hasn’t added you by now, there’s probably a reason.
  • is a tomato-lover’s dream. But you have to call now.
  • personifies personification.
  • defies defiance.
  • wants to shoot coursepacks in the face.
  • was dismayed to learn that a privy council is not what she thought it was.
  • just got her first catcall of the season. Ahh, summer.
  • is having brownies and strawberry ice cream for breakfast. Take that, establishment.
  • often ceases to amaze you.
  • wants to do a Facebook status version of “The Aristocrats.” Anyone in? A man walks into a talent agency and says, “I’ve got a show you’re going to LOVE.” The agent says, “What kind of show is it?” The man says, “Well, it’s a family act…”
  • is for external use only.
  • FUCKING LOVES cheap Safeway day, and doesn’t think you should judge her for having bought so many mushrooms that they must be stored in a Tupperware juice pitcher.
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