You know I love you. I spend more time with you than any other Internet content.
So when you suggested social sign-on, I thought it was perfect. I could have an occasional quickie with another site – leaving a comment here, reading some gated content there – and all I’d have to do is let you know where I was going. Wow – a truly open relationship.
Oh, I know you’re getting something out of this, too. After all, you’re running around with advertisers and sponsors, and this just gives you more info about me to gossip about with them. But I didn’t think I’d mind. I like targeted ads; hey, you have to make a living, too! (Although I’m not too crazy about this new thing you seem to have going on with the NSA; can we talk?)
And the sites get much better information about me than if I just signed in for a visit with a fake name or email account. They know who I really am.
But then you started asking for too much: to read and post tweets, for the names of all of my friends (as if you didn’t already know).
And now I’ve found out just how much you’re talking about me behind my back. I mean, I know I said I don’t mind, but I do. This is ridiculous. Really.
Don’t be cute: when I click this I can see the DOZENS of pieces of information that you’re passing back and forth with those other sites. That’s pathetic. You need to get your act together.
So, sorry, social media sign-on. I guess it’s over.
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