Stage 5 Clinger

It all starts off innocent. There you are on your friends Facebook page browsing through their friends list. Some of the friends you have are mutual, while others aren't. And of course, being the nosy mother fucker that you are, you pay extra close attention to the "non-mutual friends"...as to be expected, right? Friend by friend, you look for something that intrigues you. Something that will catch your eye within a split second. Translation: the "fine as fuck" friends. Bingo. You just found a pot of gold, half-way down the friends list. You click their name and see those three words: "ADD AS FRIEND".

At first, you debate with yourself on asking them to add you (yes, believe it or not, you are asking this stranger who you don't know, at all, "please be my friend") because you don't want to be ignored. Truth be told, if you get ignored the first time, there is an 88% chance, you'll request to be added as a friend again...only because in your eyes, you think they might have deleted your request "on accident".  You then realize that since your friend is their friend, your chances of getting accepting by Hottie Magee is pretty fucking good. An hour later, you get a notification that reads - "FRIEND REQUEST ACCEPTED". And so it begins...

Everyday you're on Hottie Magee's page...looking at every single pic. "Liking" everything they fucking post. For some odd and fucked up reason, you actually feel that your friends friend, is now your friend. Why? I have no fucking clue. My only explanation is that you're just a fucking idiot. But it gets worse...seeing that you feel this "bond" with the person you have never met or spoken to in your goddamn life, you search for the one thing you hope is there. Hottie Magee's phone number. And what do you know, you go to their info page and there lies those 10 digits that could possibly lead you to the promise land. The only thing you can say is, "I'm gonna stalk this bitch like nobody's business."

From that moment forward, you start texting this stranger, "Good morning", "How's your day" and details of things that they could honestly give two shits about. And each time you send a text, all you hope for is a response. The only thing you get is either some bullshit smiley face, LOL, or "I'm kinda busy right now". Translation: "Hey mother fucker, you are fucking creepy and please stop texting me." Real talk.

Who does that? You know who? Stage 5 Clingers, that's who. See friends, it's these people that will go to great lengths for a piece of pussy that not even God could grant them. But lets not get it twisted, women do the same shit to men. Why do you think my phone number isn't on Facebook anymore? Cause bitches are fucking crazy and get mad when I never responded to their text. Bitch, I don't even know who the fuck you are. You think I give a shit if you know 8 of my friends? Crazy cunt. Who sends pics of themselves in underwear that is 2 sizes too fucking small? And why was your face photoshopped into Britney Spears? True story. I can't make this shit up. Stage 5 Clinger...more like Stage 5 Stalker.

Whatever happened to, "Hey, you mind if I get your number? I really enjoy talking to you." Or asking your friend what's the dilly-o on Hot Tits Magee? Look, I'm not one to just up and text someone randomly...ok, I am, but fuck you. This isn't about me. This is about those people that don't get it (I ended up getting it after the police issued me a restraining order 2 years ago). Don't get that they are fucking creepy. Serial killer like. Future San Quentin inmates.

The Stage 5 Clinger is common. My advice to all of you people out there: don't put your phone number on your Facebook page and definitely don't put up pics of yourself if you're smoking hot. That's how mother fuckers get ass raped and found in ditches at 3am.

You're welcome.