My Ten Month Addiction To Facebook Is Reaching Dangerous Proportions.

I'm addicted.

It's not something I'm proud of. On the contrary, I'm ashamed of myself. You have to understand that I'm a deeply spiritual person. I pray to 25 saints every day, I meditate on Rachel McAdams, and I'm a student of Eckhart Tolle - this German friend of Oprah's who has invented the now. But I'm still addicted, there's no way around it.

It started ten months ago to this day. My girlfriend introduced me to Facebook. In fact, many people had told me, "why don't you go on Facebook, Peter? You can tell people about your books and introduce your blogs ... actually, you can make a total fool of yourself in front of millions of people instead of those eleven who show up for your readings."

I listened to my friends. I felt the great love they had for me and decided to go for it. So ten months ago I started my new life on Facebook. My girlfriend knows I'm technically challenged, so she explained the basics like she was talking to a retard. We set up my profile and I picked a picture from my collection of five thousand portraits.

"Do you have to look so fuckable?" she asked when I chose one from last year where I'm laughing like a madman.

"I can't help it, baby," I sighed, "but at my age, it's important to be attractive. In a few years, I might not have a body."

My pale beauty started to cry and I promised her I wouldn't let any woman be my Facebook friend unless she was incredibly repulsive.

"Thank you," she said and kissed me on the cheek.





Before my addiction ....














After ...














Then I went to work. I filled out all kinds of information about myself: how I love Crowded House and mountain lakes; how my favorite films are E.T. and Deep Throat. But the first thing I saw was a sentence in my profile that took my breath away - a sentence of such unbelievably cruelty that I sank into a deep depression. It said: Peter has no friends.

"But baby, how does Facebook know that I don't have a true friend in the world and never will?"

My girlfriend explained to me that I shouldn't take it personally. It simply meant that at this point I didn't have any, but I would get many later when I found old class mates and shady loan sharks in the listings.

"About three hundred million people are on Facebook", she explained, "so there's an outside chance you know one or two".

Boy, was she right. Ever since that day my life has changed.

I've gotten in contact with lost acquaintances from the nineties, with old lovers from the eighties, and with coke heads from the seventies. Strangers in Brazil want to be my friend, women in Campobasso are lusting after my body - I'm online 24 hours a day. Actually, I've refused to leave my computer since May 31, 2008. I haven't eaten a single time; my new friends won't allow it.

"I hate what Facebook has done to you," my girlfriend cried and lashed out at me with her dildo.

She left me yesterday because I'm only able to relate to her online. I find it very confusing when people have a body, I only want them to have a profile.

A few days go I went on Twitter. And I've been on GoodReads for months - a wonderful site for unsuccesful writers who don't have any readers. Very soon I'm going to be on Messenger, Linkit, MySpace, and Ageing Danes Who Look Four Years Younger Than They Are. Yes, with a bit of luck I'll never have to write a novel again. Who needs it, anyway, it's hard work.

And I simply can't find the time any more, even if I wanted to.

Even my gorgeous niece, Thyra in Denmark has told me I blew it ...

God, I'm So in Love with Judge Judy. She's my Favorite Nazi.

1.
I'm in love.

Please don't tell my girlfriend. She'll be devastated when she finds out, but I can't keep it to myself any longer: I'm madly in love with Judge Judy, and I want to be the stepfather of her kids.

For those of you who aren't blessed with American TV, Judge Judy is a real judge who has a reality show on CBS where she settles cases in a small claims court. And she does so with gusto, wit, and the kind of sadism that works like a charm on TV.

By the way, Judge Judy is not a babe. She's not exactly the kind of lady you'd put in your locker and wank off to. She's more like your Latin teacher from Hell. But make no mistake, Judy Sheindlin is God's gift to American reality shows. She is tough, funny, and fair. She'll abuse you whether you're innocent, retarded or Norwegian. Her intuition is uncanny - Judge Judy knows you're a loser, even before your step into her court. And she's happy to humiliate you in front of ten million viewers.

I absolutely love the show. There's nothing like watching common people being torn to pieces. Judge Judy is court porn at its best; she has turned condescension into an art form. Judy Sheindlin passes judgment on everybody - just like God. The only difference is that she looks better in a black robe.

What I admire most is how Judge Judy rules the court with an iron fist. She's happy to tell people that they're bums, free loaders, and sociopaths with dandruff. And she has every right to because her ratings are high!

A clairvoyant friend told me that during Judy's last incarnation she worked in a concentration camp for the SS - and now she has come back to finish the job. But I don't believe that's true. Judy is a wonderful mother, a stout Republican, and a gracious tipper. Her values are all-American. I bet she believes in God as long as He shuts up when she speaks.

2.
However, I got a shock the other day when I read that Judge Judy is dating Simon Cowell. The two of them have been shagging up in a Motel 6 in Pomona. At first, I refused to believe it, but then again if it's in The National Enquirer, it has to be true.

And why not - why shouldn't Simon and Judy bond? Both are huge celebrities. Both are known as caring, compassionate human beings who are great judges of character. "That was bloody awful," Simon Cowell will tell any 13 year old contestant on American Idol. "I eat losers like you for breakfast," Judge Judy will sneer at the plaintiffs in her court. They're a match made in Heaven!

However, I am disappointed because Judy, baby, you belong to me.

I might not be as rich as Simon Cowell, but you'd be much better off with this Danish novelist than with a pumped up Brit with tacky t-shirts. If we dated, we could abuse each other in public. I swear, Judy, I could put you in your place, just like your father did when you got your first period. And hey, I'd be happy to raise our kids, so they would become as judgmental as us.

But I guess it's not to be. My therapist says I should accept the fact and that I'll get over it. One day. Years from now.

So thanks, everybody for reading this. It was nice to get off my chest, but now I have to jet. You see, I'm watching a re-run of Judge Judy from 2001 - the one where two choir boys are suing a priest for spanking them with his Bible.

I bet Judge Judy is going to have a field day with that one!