I've de-faced myself.
Okay, not completely. I'm still on Facebook, but I will no longer check it. Consequently, Facebook has sent me about fourteen thousand notifications to view…Facebook. An important message. A new memory. That's my favourite. I have trouble remembering the important things in my life without the help of Facebook.
Shit, did I get married? Thanks, Facebook.
There's a right-wing rally just down the street from me? Be right there.
So, Facebook is now just a vehicle for transmitting my world-renowned blog, much like Dulcolax helps transmit feces into your toilet.
If you want to wish me happy birthday, you'll have to resort to sky-writing or make a donation in my name to my favourite brewery.
Bye Facebook. I know you'll mss me.