Pounding The Keyboard

Yesterday,while I held a John Green book (An Abundance of Katherines) I borrowed from a niece, I received a text asking me what the f--- happened to my Facebook account. Did somebody hack it? Now, why would anyone be interested in hacking my dull FB account? No, I told the texter, I closed it because a supermodel had been stalking me and sending me naughty PMs and erotic pics of her and it ‘s starting to annoy me. That, of course, isn’t the truth but just an illusion.    I deactivated my Facebook account for a few days to enable myself to breathe a little, stop and smell the flowers, bask in the sunlight, reminisce about the good ole days, you know, ponder life’s complexities and the mysteries of the universe , and think about life’s authentic problems (like the forthcoming zombie apocalypse).   Okay, they aren't true either. I’m not in a habit of smelling the flowers—that’s too gay.   It’s not that I’m homophobic but I’d rather be dead than be caught doing gay t