3. You’ve eaten plenty of cold meals because you couldn’t put down the iPhone until you captured the perfect shot of your plate.
So wouldn’t it be better for my brain (and maybe the authors) if I kept my stars to myself and composed some slow, patient, handwritten thoughts in a notebook? Or just tell my friends (as opposed to my “friends”) about the book?
Finally, a place where hipsters, struggling artists, and French kids can share their bleak outlook on life without angering the Facebook community.
There is going to come a moment when you look around and realize that you have received a request from an ultrasound with its own Facebook, and it is at this moment that you will lose all faith in your generation.
Kathy originally feared that she was unqualified to perform brain surgery on herself, but, after Googling it, she felt prepared and confident.
There is one element that all of my failed relationships share. Through all the many variations of womanhood that I have been familiar with, but a single thread carries through all of these dalliances. They involved a heavy amount of physical intimacy.
We live in exhilarating and confounding times. Mostly confounding. Here’s a concise glossary to help you make sense of it all without having to talk to anybody or subscribe to Wired magazine.
Be acutely aware of your gestures and positioning as you reach [object.] Exaggerate them. Act drunker and a little vulnerable. Try to look like you’re not trying. Try harder. Gauge what it’s looking for — it could be a condescending remark about the party/venue or a rowdy yell displaying your engagement.
The thing about our future Internet Crush will be that despite the fact that we’ll never really know them, we’ll assume they ‘get’ us and that they are beautiful and sexy and attractive and special. All the despite the cold fact that what this person really is is a collection of pictures and text — a storyboard, a narrative, a hologram, a fantasy.
On December 2nd she said she couldn’t come on the ski trip; on December 4th you said you loved her; on December 12th you sent her a picture of you on a snowboard; on December 15th she said she needed to talk; after that there are no more messages; that was two years ago. Yes, I remember — thank you, Facebook. Would you like to send her a message? Well, not anymore.