Excerpt from this satire in the New Yorker:
We’re your Facebook friends. Those Facebook friends. You know the ones. The moms who have recently gotten into CrossFit. The club promoters you went to college with. The ex-boyfriend who is legally contesting his firing from Best Buy. Your great aunt in Arizona who signs her comments, “With all my love, Your Great Aunt Marjorie.” The girl who appears to have stayed perpetually pregnant since graduation.
We have a lot to offer the Internet, and we’re exciting friends to have. For instance, we’re unpredictable. Who else is going to tell the corporate Applebee’s page to f**k off and die? Or post random, out-of-context Fall Out Boy lyrics as a status update? We don’t think there’s anything weird about reminding you almost every single day how great our troops are. Are you saying that they aren’t great? Did you see the picture of the Marines that reads, “OK, ISIS, come and get it”? Hell, yeah!
…Did we mention that we’re super-into CrossFit now?
…Let’s make a deal: if you agree to maybe cool it with all the updates about your rooftop garden and your breakfast raves, we’ll try to be less mad about every single thing that Nicki Minaj has ever done or will ever do. But no promises!
So, thank you all for your time, and remember: the dress was white and gold, everything in the Onion should be read completely literally, Kim Kardashian is actually a false-flag operation orchestrated by the C.I.A., and if you don’t share this with ten friends you will have bad luck for seven years.