From the Queen:

I just opened up a Facebook account. Are you on there? It’s a very confusing place, especially for someone who’s already on meds for this sort of thing. One minute I’m writing a profile about myself and downloading pictures to share with my friends, the next minute I’m somehow sending “virtual stickers” to strangers and being stalked by some guy named “Brad”, who we all know is actually a 72 year old housewife named Mildred who chain-smokes Lucky Strikes while her husband tinkers on the ‘87 camaro sitting astride cement blocks in the front yard of their double-wide. Then there’s this feature where people can add you to their “entourage”. I love that… “entourage”, like we’re going to ring for the private jet to fly us to Vegas to drink apple martini’s at Hyde’s with Paris and Lindsey. Would we even be allowed in their entourage if we admit to our nasty habit of wearing underwear? 


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