Friends in Lost Places

Today I was friended by someone who, from the looks of it, has just become a brand new resident of Facebookistan. As you might imagine, his friend count is a bit meager.

But fear not, gentle citizens! Facebook, that meddling dutiful bastard, has made it its life mission to correct this.

See, this person now appears in the column to the right of my news feed. You know, the one with the ads nobody looks at and the questions nobody answers and the suggested friends that nobody actually friends because maybe they're your friend's girlfriends, or, worse, your friend's ex-girlfriends, or -- God forbid -- your own ex-girlfriends, whose friending will open up a whole new can of worms better left sealed shut in some mausoleum at the center of Earth's deepest, darkest pit.

Anyway. In this column, a photo of my new Facebook friend appears. The photo is under the heading "Help a friend." And then right under that there is a little text box that says, "Help [Milton] find his friends."

"Help [Milton] find his friends?!"

Good Lord, Facebook! Really? That's how you guys chose to put it? Help him find his friends?

Like he's some dog in an interactive pop-up book for children who looks sad and lonely, and then you have to pull the tabs behind bushes and hydrants and fences until you have collected the whole animal kingdom and now Fido is happy and looks at you with big, sloppy eyes full of wonderful gratitude because you helped him find his friends, you generous and magnificent bastard you.

Help him find his friends.

I feel like I'm watching Dora the Explorer, and Dora just walked into this really crowded bar, which is just hopping, and she's getting jostled and bumped into, and, oh no, here come the Butabi brothers! And then there's this really awkward pause where everyone stage freezes and some ghostly voiceover says, "Quick, explorers! Help Dora find her friends!" And then there's the screaming of thousands of children, who all jump up at the same time and rush to the TV an plant one grubby, disgusting finger covered in mud and ice cream on a corner on the screen and scream, "THERETHEYAREYAYAYAYAYYYYY."

Help him find his friends.

Facebook, whoever writes copy for your site, just . . . just . . . I don't know. Take away his Firefox and Chrome privileges and force him to work with Explorer. I don't know how nerds punish each other, but that sounds pretty bad to me.

Help him find his friends.

Jesus the jumping Mexican bean, that's awful.