Social Media – It’s a goddamn minefield. Something big’s happened in your life? You want to share it, I get that, we all get it. Engagement? Made a baby? Landed a new job? Finally worked out how to tie your fucking shoelaces? Share that shit.
Mark Zuckerberg wants us all to share every mundane detail of our lives until we are so desensitised to each other’s emotions we hit like without even pausing to wonder whether we give a flying fuck about Stacey’s new Air Maxes, or Matilda’s 56th picture of a child so unfortunate-looking, you need to lie down in a dark room for an hour to recover from clicking on it.
So plug in your seat belts kids, because I’m going to take you on a ten-point tour through the worst sins you can commit online:
1. Birthday presents.
Did your husband buy you a yacht? No. Then calm the fuck down. Nobody wants to see another Pandora bracelet or bottle of Hugo Boss aftershave; it makes you look like the farthest you hope to go in life is Bognor.
2. Things your kids say.
Things Jack, Charlie, Harry, Arthur, Alfie said when they came home from school, followed by ‘I love my little man so much he makes me die!’ captions. Your kid isn’t the next Louis C.K., your kid is headed for a life of stunning banality, just like the rest of us.
3. Sharing things that promote apocalyptic panic.
Maybe 9/11 was a conspiracy? The world economy probably will collapse at some point? Aliens are coming to get us, the government knows about everything and the world will fo’ shiz end, but the fact that you post all this crap on Facebook shows your paranoia is really not that intense. Get off the grid and let all of us continue our blissful, ignorant little lives, you smug cunt.
4. Taking photos of your fucking food.
I know, I know, everyone does it, and everyone complains about it but for the love of God, stop it. All you’re doing is making people hungry, jealous, grumpy, and you’re letting your food get cold you insufferable moron.
5. The memory sharing function or ‘Timehop’.
What slice of unrepentant dick cheese invented this? I do not want to see a film of myself drunkenly singing Lil’ Wayne at 5am with a bottle of vodka in hand, a fag butt stuck to my matted hair and lipstick smeared down my front from a friend I haven’t seen in five years precisely because of this video. Nor do I give a shit about your dog as a puppy.
6. Hen/Stag-do photos.
Tie the bride naked to a tree, and leave her there. Preferably in a forest covered in honey, like the men do. Be a savage. If you’re not doing that and have carefully selected learner plates, a plastic veil, penis straws and neon leggings and captioned it ‘So much fun in Brighton with the girls from PGCE’, I have one word for you: BASIC. Get it the FUCK off my newsfeed.
7. The ‘feeling’ status, with matching emoji.
For people who aren’t able to articulate their own cognitions and emotions with actual words, these are an expressive godsend. For the rest of us, there an invitation to unfollow you and your passive aggressive attention-seeking.
8. Spirit Science memes.
Post one of these and you might as well share with the world that you are emotionally damaged in ways millions in therapy couldn’t fix, but you’re being strong and ‘working through it’, possibly with cupping, homeopathy, psychic assistance or some other new-age shit that doesn’t work.
9. Aggressive, repetitive hash-tagging.
If you’re on Instagram and desperate for followers for your latest juice/healthy-meal delivery/fitness training business that’s one thing. But if you’re taking a picture of a blue sky through your thighs in Koh Pha Ngan, you 100% do not need fifteen tags all with the same meaning à la: #beachlife #blessed #zen #relaxing #chilling #thailand # refreshed #happy #hot #blah #blah #blah.
10. Talking about exercise.
Pictures of you exercising. Pictures of your new trainers for exercising in. Pictures of the treadmill screen. Pictures of the map of your run. For the love of God, eat a doughnut and glory in the sugary madness that will envelop your carb-starved body and drown you in pleasure… if you’re not a bona fide athlete, no one cares.
And a special mention goes to…
Liking your own posts.
This wasn’t included in the top 10 because it is so obviously annoying I shouldn’t even need to mention it. Of course you like your own posts, you fucking posted it, but there’s just no need to announce to the world just how happy you are with yourself. It’s obvious. Leave the liking to others, boosting your likes with your own sodding name is so ridiculously self-adoring it will only serve to make others laugh at your unbelievable social ineptitude.
This is the golden rule of social media, it’s brutal, but it’s true:
Should anyone care about what I am about to post?
Hint: It’s not enough that these people are your friends, you need to entertain them, control the smugness, hashtags, and rage that you are dying to share (unless you can make any or all of those things amusing). Keep it short and snappy unless it’s a rant with real comical legs that escalates properly into absurdity. If you are laughing, people will laugh with you (unless you put that stupid emoji of a furry animal covering its face…). If you have a problem in real life, sort it out IN. Real. Life. Don’t launder your dirty washing on Facebook for miserly pricks like me to use as article fodder. Remember, there’s an ‘Edit’ button for a reason. Use it wisely my friends.
Do you enjoy a good rant about habits on social media? Then read Jack Taylor’s piece about the rise of Health Food Porn here
Imogen Gang is a wannabe writer stuck in a nurse's body. She lives in London and does her best work in fits of rage (writing work, not nursing the sick, obviously). She likes noodles and hates cats....
hates cats? elaborate if you would