A digital pseudo-reality boasting your 'Real IP Address Self' has hundreds of close human 'friends' beyond those you actually have. Yet, the preponderance of these are anomalous entities, much like avatars or quintessences of the collective imagination of those involved. These pixel-meld hallucinations are typically of someone you have never met, never will, or even if you did, you wouldn't recognize each other, which proves the point entirely. 'Friends' are virtual, semi-actualized characters who 'liked' something you said in a lucid moment; are attracted to someone you resembled; were amused by a photo you posted; or related to purported fun or drama.
But since they are never online after befriending you (& they think you are weird if you write them later or think they are actually there) it shows you have bought into this parallel macrocosm of distortedly amplified friendship. Participation severely underlines your extreme insecurity about having few or no 'real' friends since you are willing to make friends with anyone under the slightest pretext & even buy into a scam that gives you a warm, fuzzy sensation of being part of a benign worldwide social network (that may not even include your actual family & friends), but is mainly trying to sell you stuff via tailored ads that materialize on the right, regarding everything you talk about. Just post any word that crosses your mind to see behind the fabric of this lucrative venture. Ka-ching!
Q: You spend all day on FakeBook! We never go out anymore!
A: I Unfriended you on FakeBook long ago! Why are you still here?
A remote fishing village of 140,000, with an exclusive, nouveau-riche mentality reeking of entitlement. It is a simultaneously right & left wing post Judeo-Christian enclave where parades range from Historic to the Absurd. It was a center of Chumash Indian Culture. Ronald Reagan later gleefully told his wife, 'Those oil rigs out there look just like Christmas Trees to me, Nancy!' Most of the real-estate purchased just a few decades ago for mere tens of thousands now sell for over a million dollars. After the housing bubble hit the beach, people held on due to its prime location on a Pacific Coast & resultant climate, in spite of the cost of property taxes & rents. It is also home to about five major colleges, students & staff. Its major import is Tourism.
The dichotomy: Severely handicapped, mentally ill, parolees & homeless visit & often remain there because of the weather & the fact they sometimes get disability checks; medication or have doctor's appointments in the area & therefore also call it 'home'. Like other cities across the country there is a mission (not the pretty one on the hill) & a few help outreaches but almost no affordable housing. The Section-8 Housing list, although not perpetually closed like other major nearby cities such as LA & San Francisco; is reputedly seven-thousand miles long, (each year representing a thousand miles to be walked) with most applicants dying before they reach the top.
We're from Lompoc, but when you walk down the street in Santa Barbara, kids, —don't talk to anyone, so they'll think we're Locals or foreign tourists. And if anyone asks, say you were born here.
September 12, 2012
A homosexual pimp for straight girls. Often characterized by their friendliness.
Im so Glad I ain't workin' for Ramrod no mo'. Now I got me a sweet sugar pimp.
The human equivalent of The Barbie Doll who comes to life & equates her Barbie Playhouse Mansion with a future existence in a similar City. She envies the rich & famous & on coming of age she bestows her presence upon The City of Santa Barbara to bask in said party lifestyle (also known as education).
Despite her affinity to the high per capita there, she purveys that she is not into commitment; she's just there to have fun at any cost (to guys or her parents). Her major is Gold-digging 101 & her financial plan is a pot-shot at the 5-star pool of the elite via a free ride up the DNA ladder. (Oprah lives just over in Montecito & I wanna get me some mansions…) The inherent flaws in her plan are:
Rich people don't marry poor people, their families arrange marriages with other rich people's children. (And if their kids don't do what they tell them they will be disinherited.) The wealthy don't give their money away. That is why they are still rich. (A good point for spangers, jugglers, clowns & anybody flying a cardboard sign saying that they are starving & just want to get back home.)
The ancient adage: 'Fuck-or-Walk' is a harsh reality & is still the basic mantra of the male personality; so if she seeks to maintain her delusion, she will wind up a prick-tease, living on somebody's boat while waiting tables, hoping for Prince Ken to arrive; or back sleeping with her fat ex-boyfriend in Iowa worrying about paying her student loan for all those useless arts courses.
Look at that herd of Santa Barbies, bar-hopping! I'd like to pick one up but how can you tell the difference?