Rehab
by David James
Well, I finally checked myself into this what you call a “ Facebook Rehab Clinic” up here just about 40 miles outside of Kalispell, Montana in a little town called Gulag and, as I'm sure you can guess, there's no posting or commenting or liking anything anymore when I get back home after I pass the "bye-bye social networking" exam and undergo the full psychological re-programming after I finish the 12th step that we train for every morning at breakfast by getting up before the whole group of 44 of us addictees (as they call us) and say 12 times: “I am a facebookaholic” then, uh oh, whoops, bye, I gotta go now because I hear Mr. Roy, my minder, coming back out of the staff meeting and I sneaked this illegal Facebook post on his iPad and I sure don't want to get caught and be put back to Step 1 which they call a relapse.
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*.
it's a "faceaholic."
(don't tell anyone)
I...uh...liked this on Facebook, too.
Ha!
(and you wonder why I want nothing to do with FaceBook...)
BTW - there is a nice, warm, bowl of *s waiting on the table for when you get home. Don't eat them all at once, lest you become a faveaholic.
:)
Your secret's safe with us...except everyone in the library's giving me the stinkeye for laughing too loudly. *
Just tell him this isn't Facebook.*
Good piece.
There probably are such programs starting up across America. We are an addictive bunch.
David, sorry to hear of your incarceration without access to social sites. Am sending cake containing iPad. And, here, a star to light it up.*
Thanks for reading this silly thing. I wrote this in 2010 and there may be similar clinics now.
It's got me looking over my shoulder as I read it!
yep.
Now, now Catfish; didn't yo' momma tell you to not bite the hand that's chokin' you to death?
Like I said on FB--at least you admit to having a problem.*