How browsing can screw up your life

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Posted: Wednesday, March 25th, 2009 at 1:38 am | Last Updated: Wednesday, March 25th, 2009 at 1:38 am

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Guest Columnist

Today, I was on fmylife.com during class when my professor asked me a question. Since I was in the middle of reading another awkward tale of woe on the hilarious website, I had no clue what my teacher had asked. I responded with some random answer and the whole class laughed at me. FML.

The latest craze, fmylife.com is a website where people can talk about their most embarrassing and unfortunate moments — basically moments that make them say, “f*** my life.” You’d be amazed at how many people feel ready to spill out what happened to them.

Even though users can post anonymously, each post offers options for the reader to tell them that “I agree, your life is f***ed” or “you deserved that one.” And my, have the readers have been pouring in. According to alexa.com‘s site tracking, fmylife.com has seen a 49,100 percent increase over the last three months in global Internet users who visit the site. Damn.

Maybe the reason why the website is so popular is that everyone loves a train wreck. Some of the posts are so bad that you can’t look away.

Yet, fmylife.com could be all the rage because it helps many of the people who visit the site feel better about themselves. At least people can feel better about their own day after reading about someone walking in on his parents having sex. And you’re not as bad off as the guy who was dumped by his girlfriend — for another girl.

It’s so addictive. Suspense, comedy, instant gratification — this site has it all. The only thing is, it should have come with a disclaimer because, well, it’s almost too addictive.

Like today, I was reading FML at home and read a blurb that made me laugh really hard. My mom walked into the room while I was still laughing but I had minimized the web page. Unfortunately, I forgot I left a web page open behind it so my mom saw a headline “five dead in car crash” on my computer and me laughing on the floor. My first therapy appointment is scheduled for next week. FML.

The other day, I was at work reading FML when my boss came by my desk. I had copied and pasted an FML post into an e-mail to send to a friend because it reminded me of something that had once happened to her. My boss looked at the screen and saw the e-mail that read:
“Today, my boyfriend and I had sex for the first time. I started stroking the back of his neck with both of my hands. He told me, ‘Your hands are nice and smooth like my grandmother’s.’ FML.”

Now, my boss is cutting my pay for a month for not using the office equipment in appropriate matters and plus he thinks I’m gay. I’m not gay. FML.

Or last week, I was at my grandparent’s house using my laptop. I had set it down to help get the table ready for dinner. My grandpa sat down by my laptop and decided to move it. When he moved it, the screen came out of sleep mode. Of course, FML was the webpage that was open and one of the posts was about someone who hated visiting his grandmother with Alzheimer’s disease. My grandpa read it and kicked me out of the house because my grandma has Alzheimer’s. FML.

Or recently, I was in a Starbucks browsing FML on my laptop when an attractive girl walked in. She smiled at me while waiting in line for her coffee and then came over and sat across from me. After a few minutes of some great smooth talk on my part, she came over and sat beside me. So stunned by this girl who looked like Keira Knightly, I forgot that I was on FML and was reading things under the “sex” category. If you haven’t read those, they are the most graphic.

Apparently, the smokin’ hot girl sitting next to me thought that FML was a place for sex addicts to share their most awkward and disgusting fantasies. I tried to explain but she stormed away calling me a “perv.” FML.

You see, my addiction to fmylife.com has actually f***ed my life. The fact that I was innocent in each instance is one thing; the fact that I am still visiting the site just tells you that I will be saying “FML” many more times in the future. FML.

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