My name is Ellen and I’m hooked on Facebook. Husband – the panther of
news – has just told me to get off the site as I’m supposed to be working while he cooks.
I can’t help myself. It’s the inner stalker. One sniff and she’s off tracking down all the people she ever knew – even once – just to see who else they know.
The picture thing’s a bit of a problem though. It seems you have to have a photo of yourself doing something interesting or alarming. Fire-eaters and iceberg nudists you know who you are.
Will this picture of me chillin’ with a load of laundry do?