Earth at Facebook – you listening?

Well, if you have a minute, I'd like to talk to you. Why, you wonder? Don't be impatient, I'll tell you right now.

You see, Facebook, almost every time when I log in, I will have suggestions aplenty, of who I should be friends with, which games the people I'm connected with play, adverts explaining to me how I would lose weight or pictures of funny crooked houses (I'm still unsure what that ad is about); you inform me about who changed their profile and who read what news. The point is, Facebook, I don't fucking care about all of that. It's hefty enough to deal with all the little red figures, forcing me to catch up with all the fifty six comments other people made on a thread I mindlessly commented on.

Now, since recently you started to inform me that the person who posted on a thread is also a friend of my friends, and every time this person replies to someone on that thread, while I'm trying to type mine, this huge box appears, hiding what I'm typing. So I have to click it away or wait until it disappears, unfortunately, by then, the conversations has moved on or I've lost my thought. Or worse, I hit enter and the whole error riddled answer appears and while I went to the kitchen to get a glass of much needed red wine, the ability to edit my post that reads as if my iguana tried tap dance on my laptop, has gone, too.

Not that this is the only worry I have. I have been known to update my status with – admittedly – rather confusing statements such as: I have notpublished my sequel.

Much to the amusement of those who happened across it, which then developed into a long discussion and my ever growing embarrassment of not being able to change the innocent t to a w. Do you think it's funny that I accidentally called the lovely Catherine, Catering? Or the occasion when I drank red whine, making people think I probably had far more than it's good for me?

For months now, I've been asking, no pleading, begging you even, to introduce an edit-button, so I can correct errors I stumble across the next day. Up to today, you denied me my wish. Why?

And just to torture me a bit more and add to my, as you will probably think, trivial problems, you needed to introduce a new timeline – which, for those of us who use a touch pad instead of a mouse – is a pain to scroll down to the last comment and not an improvement to the overall performance. When I caved and changed to the damn thing, you promised me I could drag that picture around. I guess I don't have to tell you that it wasn't moving one bit.

Facebook, if you can introduce so many useless functions and buttons, why don't you seem to be able to get one of your highly skilled people to get us an edit-button?

Because if you don't I will call you Failbook from now on!