Lately, I’ve been interacting more with people of the ages I shouldn’t be voluntarily interacting with—in my leisure time. Oh, I don’t mean you, dear friends, my dear young friends—you know who you are—who are so far superior to HUMAN young people that the thought of them makes you yawn and retch simultaneously—and that’s a monumental task. No, I’m talking about that wretched Facebouf. You know the one—you might have found my podcast here, right now! Interacting on Facebouf is like posting on Christian message boards. Christians think the Internet is in America, and foreigners should get out. 12 year-old boyZ and pregnant, 13 year-old GirZ who post on facebouf think that we’re all in their territory, the one with RingpopZ and WebCritterZ and homemade, misspelled tattooZ. And these young peepZ, these future leaderZ of the UniverZe are the most sexist, misogynistic little squeebZ in the universe. And so I complain about attitudes in past advertising, because it all seems so similar. Luckily, none of my facebouf "frenZ" tell me I should be in the kitchen, making them a sandwich. I don’t understand why their dadZ don’t make them sandwiches, when they’re obviously hungry and I don’t get it because I am not Phresh Phly PantZ on the groun’.