There is a new disease out there, and there’s no vaccination for it. So, we can’t even blame this epidemic on Jenny McCarthy. I developed Social Media Onset Assholism (SMA), and I was forced to put myself on a social media diet, the only known treatment. Here is a short list of symptoms I continue to fight during my one hour of allotted daily social media time:
- Uncontrollable eye rolling, especially when seeing religious or political posts.
- Talking to myself, usually when faced with first grade grammar errors.
- Serial liking – a horrible compulsion to click the like button on EVERY SINGLE THING.
- Cataholism – posting more pictures of my cats than should be legal.
As you can plainly see, I had to get help. For the love of my family, and those darn cats, I had to get a grip. I know I’m not alone. Could you suffer from acute and severe SMA? Here’s how you can tell.
- Do you post a constant barrage of politically slanted articles that “prove” asinine things? They only prove that you don’t check your facts.
- Do you post things like “We won!” when your hometown sports team wins. I don’t remember seeing you suit up and play.
- Do you post a constant stream of all of the foods that are toxic and inedible? Should we all just hook up to IV’s? Seriously, what SHOULD people eat?
- Do you constantly complain about your messed up relationships and numerous baby daddies and mamas. Here’s something that might work: stop “falling in love” every 13 seconds.
If you have any of the above symptoms, turn off your computer, phone, tablet, Internet browsing television, and any other way you could possibly access Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Vine, or the other 9,736 social media sites. Have someone bind your hands with electrical tape and give you a large dose of Benedryl so you can sleep through the withdrawals. Only you can help yourself. There is no cure.
Note: My mother coined the term assholism in 1979 or so when she told my brother and me that someone suffered from it. My brother, who is 9 years older than me, said, “I didn’t know he drank.” I replied, “Mom said ASSHOLISM not alcoholism!” I was 8. Just goes to show you that I have always been a smart ass.