Chi-chi, dude, ain’t it bad enough that the shit on here tells me how long it’s been since I last poked my dead friend Bill? Or posted on his wall? Ain’t it bad enough that it suggests maybe I’ll like to consider reconnecting with Bill now and then? Ain’t it bad enough there’s some tools who post on his wall about checking out their records and shows and shit and sometimes when his birthday comes around they write happy birthday to him on here. Hella bad enough, Chi-chi. Hella.
Now what is this with you all of a sudden his friend? How does that shit work, Chi-chi? Because this was going to be a productive day for me. I was maybe going to get a few things done. But after that came up, all I could pretty much think about was writing to ask what the hell is up with my dead friend Bill’s confirming you as a friend?
Sincerely,
Bill’s Boy
Dear Chi-chi,
In life those of us who truly knew Margaret called her lovely Margarine. I can’t go to her grave so it’s kind of nice to be able to visit her wall even if I can’t post there, because, you see, Margarine wasn’t much of a techie. It took me years to get her to create a profile. Finally she did, and then before she could accept my friend request, she drowned in a sinkhole. Nothing can be done now through the official channels, so they tell me.
It was a shock to see that line of text on my screen today: “Margaret is now friends with Chi-chi.” I know you probably didn’t mean any harm, but I broke down crying. Can you please just tell me how you became friends with her? I don’t care if it’s something illegal you’re doing. If you’ve hacked into her account, I would ask you only not to post anything crude and to please accept my friend request that she never had a chance to accept? If there is something else involved I am willing to pay. I hope you understand this is very important for my heart. Thank you for listening.
Patricia
Hey Chi-chi,
You have such a beautiful name!
Why won’t you friend me, Chi-chi? I looked through all your friends now that you’re friends with my friend Eli. You’re his friend in fact as of today, which is two days after he killed himself. I noticed something interesting looking through all your friends. It seems to me all your friends—almost a thousand—are dead, Chi-chi. Is the reason you won’t friend me because I am living?
Your friend (I wish!),
Graham
nice name fuckdick. i know who you are. i know exactly who you are. and after what you did, i want to be sure you accept my friend request. accept it now, and i want you to study all the pictures in the profile album. get a good look at me. study the eyes, fuckdick. you kill my friend and then you friend my friend from some bullshit chi-chi profile. you might have had a cushy life of social networking in there the next twenty years, but now, i am writing mark fucking zuckerberg, my congressman, the president of the united states, and glenn fucking beck to demand murderer facebook accounts cutoff on incarceration. so look me up now and look me up good. one day you’re going to be out, and i’m going to be there and i want to be sure you know who it is that has come for you.
Dear Chi-chi,
Miller Judson here. I hope that this message doesn’t come across as antagonistic. I don’t intend it to be. I am genuinely curious. I’ve always thought the situation of my friend Jodee’s profile to be an extremely interesting one. She is dead but her page lives on. Of course you should know this since you, as of a few days ago, are friends with her too. I don’t know you. And I knew everyone in Jodee’s life. I am really not accusing you of anything. It’s just that this is how I’m thinking through it. I checked her page out. There doesn’t seem to have been anything else done to her information, nothing that’s visible at least. The only out-of-the-ordinary thing is her posthumous confirmation of your friendship. I can imagine some people becoming very disturbed by something like this. That would be the logical response, and I am typically a very logical person. But I am not disturbed by it. Quite the opposite, I find that it has given me a strange sense of hope. Wherever she has gone, the inventory record of her relationships from her time on Earth is plus one. But it’s going to nag at me forever if I don’t just come out and ask. I really want to know. Would you mind telling me how you became friends with my friend Jodee when she is already dead?
