Jerry Springer ate my potato chips.

I am not exactly a private person, per se. If you ask me a question and I am able to answer it without involving someone's privacy, I will probably answer it. However, I do not like to FORCE these things on people in the form of public displays of affection and fights. I don't have a problem with my bullshit being out there, as long as I am the one who put it there in a non in your face kind of way.

I have quite a few Facebook friends I have accumulated that are younger than me through school, family, mutual friends, etc. They tend to come with a lot of drama, Facebook stalking, public displays of immaturity...you get where I am going with this. It is ridiculous what these people think is appropriate to share with the entire Internet. This coming from the person who talked about their inability to poop for, like, 8 posts. Touche.

Color me surprised when one of my older classmates had a very public, very angry, swear-laden breakup over Facebook. I don't know the story, nor is it my story to tell, but it is making me uncomfortable to the point that about every half hour the boy walks upstairs, shuts my mouth, shakes his head, and walks back downstairs. I just stare at these comments thinking, YOU KNOW BETTER.

This leaves me thinking, is it really a matter of maturity? Or are there just people out there that do not give a fuck and just lay it all out there; the good, the bad, the ugly, the inappropriate? I guess I always knew...I mean, reality T.V. But, you can't ever take back the "Fuck off" you posted on Facebook. Or that time you went on Jerry Springer and found out you had a baby, came out of the closet, got restrained by a bouncer, and revealed you are sleeping with your girlfriends mother AND sister. Because I recorded that shit and posted it on You Tube.

On a totally unrelated note, the next time I go to the grocery store to get food for lunches, I am going to need one of you to dress up like a Ninja and keep me from buying chips. Bruises are fine, broken bones are not. So, I guess I am going to need to you to also acquire the skills of a Ninja. Because, seriously, I get home and eat the bag in two days, never actually taking it to school for lunch. Then I puff up like someone shoved a hose up my ass from all the salt and hate myself for two more days. It's just mean to NOT become a Ninja and help.

And in case you are wondering (judgy mcjudgerson) self control is not, in fact, an option.