The Reveler. You faithfully wish every last Facebook friend a happy birthday, on the day, every year—including the Facebook friends you friended by mistake and the ones you don’t really even like and the ones who are, like, acquaintances of acquaintances whose hopes, dreams, and offline machinations are of no actual concern to you.
The Absentee Landlord. You created a Facebook account that you never, ever use.
The Slumlord. You created a Facebook account that you never, ever use, but you’ve got friends who post stuff on your Wall that you can’t be bothered to respond to.
The Bashful Gourmet. You make meals, but before you consume them, you carefully photograph them and post the photographs.
The Milquetoast Gamer. Your Wall—and the Walls of your peeps—are littered with cutesy, colorful posts representative of incessant exchanges of virtual favors and digital currency. If any of you read Amusing Ourselves To Death, the book’s relevance to what you’re pretending is real life would go way, way over your heads.
The Archivist. You’re the Indiana Jones of under-the-radar musical treasures perpetually and unfairly flying under the Internet radar, and YouTube is your medium.
The Aspirationist. You desperately want other people to realize their goals, to find happiness and inner peace, and you’re not trying to sell anything.
The Bible Belter. Pretty much the same as above, only you’ve got a Holy Bible app on your iPhone instead of a Buddha Machine app.
The Insipid Ingratiator. No observation is too banal for you to share with the Facebook hive mind, which absolutely has to know that your son fell asleep eating honey-cheese curls and see the photograph that proves it. Why shouldn’t the world know that hot tea is soothing your sore throat? Why not tell everybody on your Friend list that you’re tickled pink by an unspecified decades-old Carol Burnett Show punch line?
The Non-Sequitur Enthusiast. You delight in posting specious in-jokes on other people’s Walls.
The Narcissist. You go to Facebook to post about stuff, and occasionally respond to folks who respond to your posts—and that’s it.
The Shy Retirer. You know those people who loiter on the fringes of a party or conversation and contribute so little that they might as well not even be there? This type of Facebook user is even more of a non-entity, with weeks or months elapsing between blips of activity.
The Crusader. You’re hoping against hope that others will be willing to sign this petition or peruse that Amnesty International article, and there’s more where that came from.
The Musician. You’ve got a show coming up, or several, with other musicians.
The Loquacious Wonder. You hold forth more in a single, sustained comment string than you do with members of your own immediate family.
The Reveler. You faithfully wish every last Facebook friend a happy birthday, on the day, every year—including the Facebook friends you friended by mistake and the ones you don’t really even like and the ones who are, like, acquaintances of acquaintances whose hopes, dreams, and offline machinations are of no actual concern to you.
The Absentee Landlord. You created a Facebook account that you never, ever use.
The Slumlord. You created a Facebook account that you never, ever use, but you’ve got friends who post stuff on your Wall that you can’t be bothered to respond to.
The Friendster. Your Wall is a litany of you becoming friends with other Facebook users and nothing else whatsoever.
