I never realized how many people I hated until I joined Facebook.Sure, it’s a social networking site. I understand you’re going to post information about yourself. But there are some things I never want to know about you.Those things, which are either dull, offensive or simply moronic, are classified as Internet “overshare” — in other words, the tendency of 21st century humankind to ritualistically microblog inane drivel, grossly inappropriate details or self-deprecating humor designed specifically to invite compliments.Granted, my Facebook friends in particular have comparatively minimal instances of overshare compared to the Internet at large. The truly cringe-worthy specimens are only found in snarky blogs like “STFU, Parents” or the more inclusive “Lamebook,” both of which catalog the most appalling instances of social networking faux pas in recent history. Still, the effect of overshare is pervasive and annoying even to a remote witness.  Oversharers, you know who you are. Stop it. I want to reach across the Internet and slap you, because the details you regale me with just don’t belong on a public forum.I could make a list of the things I could live without hearing. I shouldn’t know you’re pregnant before the “baby daddy” finds out. If you’ve found another cow on Farmville, keep it to yourself. Quit thanking Jesus for your awesome parking spot. If your excretory organs are acting strangely, please refrain from gracing us with the intimate details.  Are you getting the picture now?I don’t want to look at those new half-naked photos you took of your reflection in the bathroom mirror. I’m sure you’re quite impressed with your muscles — especially considering how the bathroom light throws them into impressive relief — but can’t we at least confine the narcissism to one album? And who could forget the most entertaining demographic — the heavily pregnant Facebook users?Honey, I don’t want to know how many centimeters you have dilated. The condition of your birth canal isn’t something I need to be informed about every few minutes. Though I must applaud your ability to simultaneously microblog and birth a baby — be sure to put that on your résumé.Don’t be mistaken. I’ll probably enjoy looking at pictures of your new kid — as long as they’re fully clothed, that is. Reading messy diaper stories, hearing about “bath time” mishaps and seeing their accompanying picture is something I will happily forego, along with hearing about how you plan to prepare and eat your placenta. If you have the bizarre culinary inclination to consume an organ that facilitates the expulsion of fetal waste, then have at it — just not where I have to hear about it.Remember, nothing is ever truly deleted from the Internet. Nor will it ever be deleted from my brain, unfortunately. Which is probably why I’ve already hid 32 oversharers from my own newsfeed.I still gripe, despite the fact I’ve compartmentalized them to the point of no longer being bothered by them. Why, you ask? Probably because something perverse in me enjoys mocking other people. But I prefer to think this can serve a dual purpose as a teachable moment. Let’s go with that. This column is just an extremely passive aggressive note from me to you, and if you think you recognize yourself in here, then you should immediately break yourself of your need to be validated over the Internet. It’s quite simple.It really is a redeemable situation, I assure you. Just use the examples I gave you as a guide to “what not to do.”But if you typeeee yourrrr wordssss likeeee thissss, I’m not sure if I, or anyone else, can help you. Some things just can’t be fixed. Linnie Leavines is a 19-year-old mass communication sophomore from Central City. Follow her on Twitter @TDR_lleavines.
 
 
 
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