When I first started seeing Facebook, it was young love: I’d skip homework to go play with it, I’d see it every day after school, and I thought we could never be separated. And then, you changed.
It all started with my “friends” using you to answer questions about me. Then you wouldn’t let me see the answer unless I bought coins. Seriously? I thought we were closer than that. I thought we could share everything (except age, sex, and location), coins or no coins.
Then, you started to change yourself nearly every week. I told you from the start, “Baby, you don’t need to change yourself for me.” But you wouldn’t listen. Every day, it seems like, you came up to me asking to update you, and I’m forced to play along. My friends and I would always complain about the new you, but you never listened.
We had a good run. So many memories.
Then there were the games you played. Why are you farming? Am I not good enough for you? Are you having an affair with a virtual farmer? Sure, cover it up with free virtual strawberries. This isn’t a game. I’m putting myself out on the web, and you’re treating it like a game.
Now, I can’t read a frickin’ news story without everyone knowing. Why do you make everything so public? Congratulations if you love Jesus, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t notice that if you re-post a million times. There will be no killer clowns in your bedroom, and your family will not be murdered if you don’t re-post, so why do you do it? Just keep scrolling.
Facebook, we had a good run, but we need some time off. I’m breaking up with you.
P.S. Facebook didn’t take it well. She responded angrily, “Fine! I don’t give a damn! Go spend time with Google+, you jerk!”
The Lighter Side of the Moon 
Google+ is a babe!