Facebook has an 8 ball

The magic kind, not the 1/8 ounce kind, although they could have a metric fuckton of cocaine and I would never know, so I guess I shouldn't make declarative statements like that.

I got back from my trip to Italy, and I should want to blog about that, but I find myself fascinated by the ads Facebook has targeted to my demographic. Facebook thinks I'm an underpaid, 30-something New Yorker who loves yoga, Botox, drumming and wants to be a ninja. All of that is true except for the Botox and the yoga. I love the idea of yoga. I even do a half-assed Sun Salutation every once in awhile. I should be all over yoga like Botox on The Real Housewives of Orange County, but I can't focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time, let alone on my own breathing. I mean, that's the whole point of having an autonomic nervous system, so I don't have to worry about that stuff.

I clicked the ad that promised me jobs that pay $92 an hour for part-time work, because the only jobs like that that I'm qualified for require monthly VD testing. I turned back when I got to a page that said the offer would expire if I didn't send them my name, address and phone number in 14 minutes and 30 seconds.

I don't need that kind of pressure.