When he wasn’t there—really wasn’t there, which I found out after going Jacques Cousteau on the search bar—I instantly liked him even more.
You already know that a Facebook page can easily become a repository of avoidable turnoffs: albums of unintentionally depressing bathroom-mirror selfies, syntactically insane drunk-posts, easily traceable hookup histories via relationship statuses.
But inveterate sleuth Kate Carraway has a scary secret: Just the sight of your face on Facebook might be why you're going home alone The last time I felt the electric spine-shiver that lets me know I like a guy, I did what I always do: looked him up on Facebook.
Another guy—a very hot, dangerous-in-a-way-that-I-like guy—used his Facebook page to complain about his bills, his co-workers, his commute, and other banal life-slights, which made him into a boring-in-a-way-that-I-hate guy.
things: throwing balls, making deals, building something, even brooding quietly. Just having a Facebook account implies that you are wasting your remaining youth warming your genitals with a laptop and working out the details of a status update like a nail-biting middle schooler.
In fact, research shows that more than 40 million Americans (40 percent of all singles) use online dating services.
It has become a very successful way to meet that someone special.