*This is your language warning.  Really… this is it.  Okay, if you’re tuning in for the first time, or recently, I rarely swear this much.  Really.*

This morning, a person – we’ll go with “Captain Asshat”, attempted to publicly shame me into accepting a friend request.

A fucking friend request.  On fucking Facebook*.  I chose to ignore the shaming for what it was: a douchebag move.

Nice job, Captain Asshat.

I decided to leave the comment where it was, letting all those who were reading along see it for the asshattery that it was but it was deleted.  Not by me – because I love when that kind of shit backfires.  Nonetheless, deleted it was .

“Captain Asshat”.  Yeah – those were two words that popped into my head shortly after that comment appeared, quickly followed by “douchebaggery” and “asshattery” in their variety of forms.

Public fucking shaming.  No, no… I just can’t let this go, so kiddos, let’s start with a lesson on the use of social media.

According to Guy Kawasaki, this is how you should use social media:

Facebook is the “backyard barbecue”.  The people you connect with here and add to your friends list are actual family, friends, old (or present) classmates, perhaps even co workers or associates; people you have met, converse with regularly, etc.  Essentially, these are the people that you would genuinely enjoy kicking back in the backyard, enjoying a cold beer (or another lovely adult beverage), eat burgers and play drunken rounds of old school lawn jarts – you know, the kind that send people to the emergency room… with the metal tips – the outlawed kind.  (Okay, Guy didn’t say anything about lawn jarts.  That’s all me.)  Oh, and here’s a hint: send a damn introductory message to a person before you send a damn friend request. It’s just common fucking courtesy (wow, did anyone else hear Ian McShane as Al Swearengen from “Deadwood” just then?).

LinkedIn is the Office After-Work party, nothing too crazy and adult beverages and hor d’oeuvres or petits fours may be involved.  Everyone is still in office attire, is ready and willing to glad-hand the masses, do some networking.  There might be a couple people making out in the coatroom or greasing wheels with dirty money, but ultimately everyone is just looking to get home, kick off their stilettos or wingtips and relax.  And same hint as before – send an introductory message; Erika Napoletano covered that very well.

Twitter is a Cocktail Party.  It’s full of people you don’t necessarily know, there are a million conversations buzzing around the room and you get to mingle with a lot of those people at the party as you balance your martini precariously while wending your way through the crowd.  When you end up talking to someone who is suddenly wearing the garb of a “Captain Asshat”, you can excuse yourself quickly, claim that you see someone you know across the room and must go talk to them as you haven’t seen them in ages and get the fuck out of there.

Google Plus is the After Party.  I imagine that the after party would end up with me looking more like Cinderella the Scullery Maid than Cinderella the Princess because I turn into a damn pumpkin by 10 PM.  I’m not much of an After Party person, so for those of you who are into those kinds of things – have fun with that.

So, now that I’ve established how everyone should be using social media, let me get back to Captain Asshat and their douchebaggery of the day.  Public shaming?  Over an unrequited friend request… on fucking Facebook… and you only met me once – at a cocktail party?  Get over your damn self.

I’ll play on a well-known book title “I’m just not that into you”.