the one about facebook

I hate facebook
I despise it
Especially(or only) because really I am a computer illiterate who would not know the first thing to do with a social networking site. So to hide my secret this, I pretend like Facebook is beneath me. I call facebookers such names as juvenile dimwits, spit on them with unconcealed distaste and then walk away and go cry my eyes out from shame and envy.

Now because I swore to all of my friends that I would never be caught in the dead hanging with the idle lot (I hear even Harry Sagara is on facebook) I did the next best brave thing and opened a facebook account with an alias. You understand, I had a reputation to protect. Tamara Agaba was henceforth born on facebook. Tamara, because at the time that brilliant idea hit me I was watching big brother and the field presenter from I do not remember where was called Tamara. And she was tall. Agaba because I have a feeling in my past life, I might have been called Agaba.

By the way, y’all missed my kwanjula last nite. Yeah. I dreamt that I had a kwanjula. The groom wore a brown suit.

But back to facebook. I went about the process of inviting friends and my friends’ friends and by the end of that exercise, I had all of 9 contacts. I know. My friends are not very much loved I am afraid. I must say I found facebook rather boring. Apart from changing my what do they call it that thing that begins with Tamara is… it was an absolute bore. But secure in the knowledge that my undercover moves had not been found out, I plied on. But one day, this conversation took place in the taxi between my friend and I;

Antipop (says something true to friend)
Antipop friend(not looking very convinced)
Antipop: Honest. Would I ever lie to you?
Antipop friend: I don’t know, Tamara, would you?