In response to recent Facebook status updates, I hereby declare my online friends to be mass of a mindless (but well intentioned) robotic sheep in a desperate attempt to protect their '80s hair and clothing from further exploitation by the evil emperor Zurg, sworn enemy of the Galactic Alliance (and minor robotic character in the Toy Story franchise). The violation of posting such status updates is punishable by fifty lashes with a wet noodle. So there!
In response to Facebook's new privacy guidelines, I hereby declare that I don't a clue what's mine and what's not. I've basically resigned myself to the probable fact that Mark Zuckerberg and his buddies can do whatever they want with my identity, if they want. I don't know how this shit works. I've never read the TOS of *anything* I've agreed to and only God knows what my legal obligations are. So, Facebook can do whatever they want with my lame posts about booze and equal rights but I assume that they're more worried about their stock price so I seriously doubt they will do anything with it. I'll just keep going with it and hope that, one day, they don't show up at my door and ask me to have sex with a goat in front of someone's children because that's what I agreed to.