The strangest banana in the bunch, Bryan, who is about 35 and still lives with his parents, has been trying desperately to branch out and diversify. He's even made a lady friend: a friend of Corb's mom who he picked up at the funeral for Corb's grandmother. No, I'm not making that up. I guess they kind of bonded while grieving over the coffin.
Anyway, he decided to join Facebook the other day, and it was with great dread that I realized he sent me a friend request. He also sent Corb a friend request, too, which he accepted. I'm kind of torn, though, because some of my stuff is kind of political, and I don't really want to piss off a right wing, gun loving good old boy who obviously is going to have a hard-on for Donald Trump.
"But I don't think he's getting the whole Facebook thing," Corb said to me last night at dinner, after the third day of me not accepting his friend request.
"Well, he doesn't get the idea of the 'like' button," replied Corb. "So, for every entry his lady friend, posts, he is literally replying by typing out the word LIKE."
I think I spit some food out of my mouth at that point. Wow. Now THAT'S rustic!