Facebook: It's like crack, in a way.
You are "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" You like life in the fast lane. Like Jim Morrison's credo, you're destined to live fast, die young, and leave a good lookin' corpse. Let's all hope yours is better looking than Jim's was. Which Rufus Wainwright Song Are You?
In other news, I'm incredibly late with my history paper, I have a political theory paper due Thursday, and a sexual ethics paper on the merits of porn due sometime next week (yes, Karen - I'm showing up for class tomorrow. Surely this is a sign of the apocalypse). When the hell did I become so disorganized?
Also, Facebook is incredibly addictive. Nothing screams "Validate my existence, damn you!!!" like sending a message to some person who slept with this guy that you saw in some class asking them to confirm that you are, indeed, their friend. Bah. Cheers to the 47 people and counting who have decided to acknowledge I exist. I love you all - in a non-binding, somewhat anonymous, totally egoistic sort of way.