When Grandpa Richard last entertained the thought of joining social media, he was spooked by the use of yellow smileys that are threatening to replace words as the standard means for written communication.
It was really unnerving for the old man to have sentences winking and leering at him. His perception that the internet is nothing but one gigantic adult movie store only exacerbated matters.
But having recently graduated from eating in the kitchen to sharing the dining table with the old man, I have somehow managed to convince him to give it a shot. We’ll start with something benign for now, and that’s Facebook.
I held Grandpa’s hands and looked him deep in his eyes, assuring him that everything’s going to be okay. As such, I want all of my comrades to assist me in scouring Facebook; we must purge it from all asininity in preparation for Grandpa’s arrival.
I know I should already be cutting you some slack when it comes to grammar, but there is no way my old man is going to let it slide. Kindly configure your status updates to a form that he can actually decode without the help of crack cocaine or a DVB-T2.
Is their a baptism of sorts that takes place before dimwits sign up for Facebook? I am asking because everyone on the social network seems to choose flabbergasting names that might upset my old man.
It baffles the mind why someone would bestow upon themselves an asinine moniker such as ‘Hagalicious Shee-raw Bootylicious’. More discombobulating is how a lad can take a perfectly sensible name like Wafula, ruin its etymology, and then proceed to refer to himself as Waahfooler on Facebook.
And when Grandpa is online, kindly don’t conflate him with a counselling psychologist. So your boyfriend of two weeks has cheated on you and you decide to rant on everyone’s face in your timeline?
That’s nonsense, seeing it won’t solve any of your problems. Hiring a firearm to get your frustration across will achieve more effective results.
Recall the prurient nudes we spoke about last week? Throw those outside the window or hide them under your mattress, grandpa shouldn’t see them.
I know college goes hand in hand with boozing, but posting photos of your drinking escapades on Facebook is the antithesis of being cool.
There’s nothing as embarrassing as explaining to Grandpa the meaning of asinine acronyms such as ROTLMFAO and MILF. All ye with abbreviated minds and single-digit IQs, it is time to consign that anachronistic nonsense to the rubbish pit.
Nagging psychos, never rile up my old man by badgering him to watch your filthy Youtube videos. Twisting his arm to make him read your claptrap blogs is also prohibited.
Do not fill his inbox with generic forwards, and tagging him on unsolicited photos is a capital offense.
All I’m asking is for us to engage our noggins before typing out status updates and sharing photos. Do it for the sake of my old man. Am I asking for too much?