Wednesday, August 10, 2011

I Think We Broke Facebook

I was sitting on the couch a few minutes ago, innocently executing some late-night Facebook-stalking on my laptop, when Hubs suddenly plopped down on top of me, typed, "Ari is the best husband ever.  Like, totally" in my status bar, and reached for the "Share" button.  Ari is the best husband ever, but I have not said "like, totally" since sixth grade, and I have every intention of keeping it that way.

I grabbed his right hand and yanked it away from my mouse.
He reached for the mouse with his left hand, but I grabbed it with my other hand.
He started biting my right arm and raised his foot onto the coffee table.
I trapped his leg between both my feet and pulled it back down.
One of his hands broke free and we engaged in a fierce struggle for control of the mouse, during which we managed to press the left- and right-click buttons simultaneously several times in succession.

Facebook went crazy.  Random people's profiles started popping up of their own accord.  I think this must have been everyone I'd Facebook-stalked tonight, in reverse order.  It was the Priori Incantatem of Facebook.  Meanwhile, Ari failed to notice that all this excitement had caused me to have an asthma attack.  Between wheezings and gaspings, I finally managed to communicate that I needed him to stop sitting on me and biting me and restraining my limbs, and go get my inhaler.

Once I'd inhaled some sweet, sweet steroids, Ari sat down on top of me again and amended his lie-status to say, "Ari is the best husband ever.  I'm sure he's very sorry for giving me an asthma attack."

"And biting me."

"Ari is the best husband ever.  I'm sure he's very sorry for giving me an asthma attack.  And biting me.  I love him very much because he's awesome."

He clicked "Share."  Then it loaded and loaded for about fifteen seconds, and...
...it didn't post.

"HA!" I exclaimed.  "Facebook will only post for me!"

He clicked "Share" again.  It loaded and loaded for about twenty-three seconds, and...
...didn't post.

"What's wrong with it?!"

"Magic."

"Maybe it scanned your fingerprints or something.  YOU try to post it."

Pause.

"You're asking me to post the status you were trying to forcibly post in my newsfeed?"

"Yeah."

Pause.

"Okay."

I guess this is what marriage is all about.

And it still wouldn't post.  I think we killed Facebook.

P.S.  If ever a post needed pictures, it's this one... but I have to be up before 10:00 AM tomorrow and it's getting late, so that's just too bad.

2 comments:

  1. I loved-ed-ed this story very much. My wife and I have wonderful grand goofy times together as well.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Glad you enjoyed it! I really believe goofiness is the key...

    ReplyDelete