I Know What You Did A Second Ago

Isn't it incredible how people can have lives even if your FB feed doesn't reveal intricate details thereof to you every five minutes? It makes me feel very... Budhist and inclusive and such like. Also profoundly scary: there are those people who're on your friends list because you can't just say you don't know them (though, in fact, you don't). And they lurk and smirk and it's no use Mommy's telling you not to talk to strangers because this is a level of strangeness mankind wasn't prepared for. All the world's a social network, and men and women merely stalkers.

Don't think this is worrying? Let me paint you a picture. I think this dude's vaguely cute. I ping my friends who read his friends' tweets and pass me his blog address from something he said @someoneelse. I RSS feed his blog anonymously and when he posts next I comment with the cursory disclaimer 'I was blog hopping andddd...'

And then of course he has to be polite and come to your blog (where hopefully he won't read a post giving away your methodology but will instead read the cryptically enigmatic post you've planted there specially so he can happen upon it). Even if he doesn't leave a comment, lured by the Mona Lisa-like sfumato of your last post, he has to feel compelled to let you know he read your blog.

This is your gateway to the next level - authorisation to add him on an instant messenger or even that most invasive of all gossip hellholes - Facebook.

Thankfully for boykind given my latent (but clearly) proficient stalkerage skills, by this stage, 108% of all males would have bored me silly and I'll be over them. To the rest of you who were nodding all along and thinking 'Yes, yes, I so do that!'... shut down your comps, children. Go into therapy. Thxbai.