In Which I Question Facebook's Marketing Team

Oh Facebook, how much your ads annoy the panties off of me (in the bad way). Like yesterday, when I glanced to the stepchild part of your page, and realized that yes, you are stalking my demographics. What irks me is that you are stalking them and getting such a generalized demographic from my profile. I mean, have I not provided you enough information that in turn you could provide me with ads worth clicking?

Like this, a screen shot of all three featured ads. "Oh, she has children so she's a total lush. Then, her drinking is running up her grocery budget, so let's help out a sista there. And then finally, HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE WRINKLES? Plastiic surgeon - stat!"

I hate you, really.

Not going to lie though, I did eventually click on the Bitches on a Budget advertisement, and I might actually love it. So yes, you kinda win. If by "win", I mean "66.67% failure".

But really? Facebook's "seriously, wtf?" factor doesn't end there. This ad MADE MY EYEBALLS GO NUMB AND FALL OUT (maybe I should sue you for that). Once I collected them off the floor, I found the nearest sharp object, in this case - a pair of safety scissors and a spork from Taco Bell, and performed a full hysterectomy. After which, I propped myself up, squinted at the screen and said to myself "Someone, please, tell me I was not this large?"

And the reply to that question, which I twitpic'd, was simply "No. Because what is she carrying? Quads?" Ew. ("ew" to how uncomfortable she looks, not "ew" to quads. I don't baby-hate)

That picture has to be fake, no?

I'd like all of you to please note that my hysterectomy was performed without the assistance of robots and especially without the assistance of robots that look fresh from the Sims - Suburban Creepiness Edition.

Is that honestly the robot that would have performed my hyserectomy had I visited Jackson Hospital? If so, I believe she needs to be considering a "night job", because my husband might be interested. Her hands look... intriguing, I'm sure.

After my non-robot hysterectomy, but before I questioned twitter about my former pregnant belly, I had a glass of radioactive wine, because frankly... that's how I roll.

Side effects include (but are not limited to):

- Glowing Eyelid Syndrome
- Purple face
- Random de-attaching arms
- Third Eye (blind)
- Reincarnation
 - What in tarnation?
                                                     - Face cancer
                                                     - And horrible Facebook advertisements