Facebook Anonymous

    For those of you who might not be familiar with the name Colin Butts
    (where have you been living!) he is possibly best know for novel ‘Is
    Harry On The Boat’, that was later made into film before becoming a TV
    series. Two subsequent novels followed, ‘Is Harry Still On The Boat?’
    and ‘A Bus Could Run You Over’. He is also one of the men behind
    successful San An bars Plastik and newly named Pukka Up Bar, not to
    mention the soon to be opened Plastik Beach in Playa D’en Bossa. For
    those who are familiar with Colin, you will have no doubt giggled
    uncontrollably at some of his Facebook rants at one point, like we have.
    We thought it was about time his razor sharp wit was shared with our
    community. In the first of a series of ‘ifs & butts’ bloggs, Colin
    deals with his Facebook addiction and subsequent tourettes…

    I had a friend once who went to AA. It was back in 1991. As many
    ‘anonymous’ devotees do, she became borderline evangelical about it and
    was constantly trying to persuade me to go. “But I’m not an alcoholic,” I
    protested. Didn’t seem to matter. “Surely there must be something you’re
    addicted to? What about Narcotics Anonymous, there’s one of those… No…
    no wait…I’ve got it, what about Sex Addicts Anonymous?”

    Despite working in Ibiza in 1987 and 1988 (which used to be the equivalent
    of saying you saw England win the World Cup or was in the Blind Beggar
    when Ronnie Kray shot George Cornell) my narcotic pursuits didn’t really
    start in earnest until 1993 so Narcotics Anonymous would have been at best
    premature and I would like to think, actually altogether redundant. And
    I’m pretty sure the only reason she suggested Sex Addicts Anonymous was my
    constant attempts to (unsuccessfully) bed her. Had she recommended “Sad
    Twats Desperate For A Shag Anonymous” I would’ve been there in a flash.

    It struck me today though that there is an “Anonymous” group I would go
    to, if it existed: Facebook Anonymous. More specifically in my case,
    Facebook Tourette’s Anonymous. I seem to have developed this compulsion to
    write things on people’s status updates, convinced I’m the funniest fucker
    on God’s earth. Take today as an example. Picture of a girl I know,
    cuddling her dog. Some sleazy male friend of her’s commented “Nice legs.”
    Couldn’t help myself, “Yes all four of them.” Or my old mate Tony Truman
    who promised to post pictures of his exciting new venture, The Ocean Beach
    Club. They’ve been digging up the foundations for weeks so I went to all
    the trouble of finding a picture of a toy JCB digger and posted that. Ha
    bloody ha.

    For the most part my ‘offence filter’ is pretty good and I know where to
    draw the line (like today when I stopped myself from commenting “nice
    coat” on an anti-seal clubbing picture of a woman adorned in seal fur). I
    don’t deliberately set out to antagonise or confront, merely to be
    pathetically amusing within the parameters of my own sometimes wayward
    moral compass. The problem comes of course, after a drink. A few months
    ago a girl I only really half knew had a status update of “How do you mend
    a broken heart?” Pissed at 4am, I wrote “Bum sex.”

    I got up late the next morning and once I logged on to facebook I
    remembered what I’d done. Cringing, I went to her profile to apologise.
    After all, she may have just come out of a long term relationship and been
    in absolute bits as a result. In the same way that love songs only truly
    resonate when you’re in love, you can only empathise with the pain of
    splitting up with a partner when your own wounds are still fresh. I
    realised it was a bit of a silly thing to have done so I hoped she hadn’t
    taken too much offence.

    I was therefore shocked when I looked at her wall and saw the ferocity of
    some of the comments directed at me. “Delete the prick… What an
    asshole…Where does he live… etc.” OK, I accept it was a bit
    insensitive but talk about over reaction! However, as I scrolled down the
    reason became a little clearer. It turned out she didn’t have a broken
    heart because of splitting up from a long-term relationship or having her
    heart broken by some self-centred cad.

    It was because her mum had just died…