It Worked, Now You’ve Broken It

 

 

Facebook, the perfect place to go to become confused, disorientated and to miss important information. Why do these people find it necessary to piss about with something which works perfectly well or has an easy-to-use drop-down menu?

 

I’m talking about the news feed, if that wasn’t already obvious. One can study the news feed in minute detail yet, upon looking at a friend’s profile, there are things there which have not appeared in the feed. Then one looks at the feed using an app for iPhone or Blackberry and the content has changed once again. Even combining the content of both the PC and the phone does not result in getting all of the information. It’s baffling.

 

Apparently some boffin at Facebook felt that an algorithm could better determine what I want to see than I can. I have had my viewing content censored by a formula. Unfortunately the formula doesn’t work, however being Facebook this isn’t relevant and we will both put up and shut up. My iPod uses an algorithm to determine the “shuffle tracks” order, even that isn’t truly random, but at least it does work which must be a first for anything free from Apple.

 

Then, for reasons best known only to some thick-lensed glasses geek at Facebook, they’ve added this ridiculous sidebar feed thingy with the chat window underneath. The latter worked fine the way it was so why not keep users on their toes by shuffling things around the screen ad nauseam? And what is that stupid feed on the right anyway? What does it do? Why, for tonight at least, do the main feed, the side feed, the pop-up window, the notifications globe whatsit and my phone bear no resemblance to each other in terms of time? I get a comment notification as a pop-up, a minute or so later it hits my phone, 7 minutes later it appears in the side bar and a minute after that the globe glows red…ridiculous! If I had more than one comment then I wouldn’t know whether I was coming or going, what I’d read and what I hadn’t.

 

Having scoured the internet for literally minutes, I can report that there are no settings which can be changed by us normal people which would allow Facebook to function fully. They don’t even give the option of installing an update which can then be reverted to a previous version when it’s wanky (I give you Adobe reader X – 9.4 as an example of this,) thereby telling me what I want to read despite my protestations. Next they’ll be doing the equivalent of burning a huge pile of books and telling us that the content is “un-Facebook” and that we should invade neighbouring countries. Or something.

 

 

The Mighty(ish) Arsenal

Well I never, 3 points at Stamford Bridge against the PRF in crisis. It’s all going pretty well at the moment for us Gooners, particularly considering the shaky, putting it mildly, start to the season.

 

Last night’s beers went quite well, at least the part in Trillians did, however then Darren became obsessed by his telephone and Facebook and I got royally annoyed by this. Big John and Dave Silburn turned up too, monged beyond belief, but they quietly dispersed before any lasting damage could be done. I got a taxi home and ill-advisedly looked at Facebook – this is when the trouble started. What had annoyed me earlier regarding the lack of communication from Darren descended into an outright rage at what I took to be a complete reversal of his assurances regarding his intentions with our friend Tan Don. Subsequent phone calls and texts have proved that I was incorrect in my interpretation of what he said, however I’d vented my fury on him via Facebook comments bythe time that I got the full story and thus outed him as a “self-serving cocksucker,” a “fucking nob,” a cunt and an “unbelievably desperate bell end.” So, whoops and whatnot.

 

Anyway, that’s all water under the proverbial bridge now, we’ve kissed and made up (metaphorically speaking) and it’s business as usual. I did get a rather amusing phone call from Matty today, informing me that Lou had locked the car key in the boot and that Mother has the spare. I almost offered to drive down to Kent with it, however common sense prevailed at the last minute and I binned that silly notion. So, twat of the day award goes to Lou, you’d never catch me doing anything exactly the same as that in Leatherhead and then having to punch my window out or anything. Oh no, that would never happen.

 

Well, I’m off for a Tim Rothathon – Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction and Made in Britain. I’ll be pausing it, wherever I’m up to, so that I can watch Match of the Day and gloat at Chelski’s inability to defend or, in the case of John Terry, stay on his feet. He probably got distracted by a black man and stopped to hurl abuse at him, the big twat.

 

 

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