3

 

ogacenter.com

 

 

 

 

   

 

BREAKING ANTI NEWS:
WHY DIE? LIVE FOREVER AS A FACEBOOK PROFILE

 

 
 


Death. The inevitable point of no return. It’s the same for everyone, from family to friends to lovers, even to pets. So, deal with it - there’s no way to visit a loved one once he or she has departed for the great beyond.

But now you can sidestep the grim reaper, and live virtually forever… as a Facebook profile. You can still be the life of the party. Even though you’re dead.

“My buddy Bill fell into an industrial dough-mixer,” said co-worker Adam Wolf. “All they could find was his scratched-up belt buckle. That was 3 years ago. But I still send my family vacation pics to his facebook profile and wish him posthumous happy birthdays every October.”

“I miss my husband Duke”, said widow Lucy Beaumont. “Even though he dove into an empty swimming pool 5 years ago, he’s still a Facebook badass.” Duke has over 2,670 “friends”, more than the average living human being.

Your corpse may end up in a casket, a body bag, an urn, or even a landfill. But your opinions, sob stories, angry comment threads and embarrassing beach photos will live on until the end of time. “Think of it as a Digital Afterlife,” explained Flint Jabber, Internet undertaker. “Instead of putting flowers on their grave, just post flowers on their page.”

“Death is so passé,” said millennial Truffle McGowan. "I hope to keep racking up likes and heart emojis and 'thumbs-ups' long after the vultures have picked me clean.”

By some estimates, over half a billion Facebook users are deceased. Efforts are underway to create a “Social Media Cemetery” to accomodate the ever-growing number of online dead.

But what if you don't want your loved one to live forever as a Facebook profile? “Simple,” explained Facebook executive Max Gallstalk, “Just click the dropdown menu on the upper right and go to settings < sub-settings < preferences < utilities < specifications < applications < properties < users < membership < deactivate account. Then enter their password.”

“But I don’t know my mom’s password,” said grieving son Brad Jones. “Sorry,” said Mr. Gallstalk, “I guess your mom is immortal.”

  Anti News ©2020 Chris Hume