MAD KANE'S HUMOR BLOG

Last week, shortly after I posted my latest Limerick-Off and announced it on Facebook, the FB powers-that-be gave me quite a scare. Out of the blue, I was locked out of Facebook.

A few minutes after my account was frozen, I received an FB email security alert informing me that I was infected by the Koobface virus and that my account would be blocked until it was removed. The email “helpfully” explained that I had gotten it from downloading some video I damn well knew I hadn’t downloaded. In fact, I had run a virus scan several hours earlier and had downloaded nothing in the interim.

Nonetheless, I spent the next few hours running two different virus scans, neither of which found anything. After that, I wasted more time trying to regain access to my account. This involved:

1) Swearing on a bunch of bibles that I was virus and worm-free;

2) Writing, “pretty please let me back on Facebook — I promise to be good” one-thousand times on a local grade school’s blackboard; and

3) Trying to convince FB that I’m really the account owner by (and I swear this is true) attempting (and failing) to ID nine Facebook friends by their photos.

When I told hubby Mark about the ID nine FB friends by their photos test, he start laughing hysterically. Why? Because few people are less visual than I am. Not only don’t I pay attention to FB photos, but under pressure I’d be hard pressed to ID one of me.

The whole time I was taking (and flunking) the photo test, I was praying to the god of agnostics that Facebook would give me another chance before permanent banishment to Twitter land.

The good news: FB gave me a second opportunity to prove I’m not an identity thief. The bad news: It involved cell phone text messaging, something I’d never done.

Yes, I know cell phone text messaging is no big deal and has been mastered by your average three-year old. But after hours of FB torture, I wasn’t in the mood to acquire a new skill. Nevertheless, after several screwed up attempts, I retrieved the FB Top Secret Code from my cell phone and convinced Facebook that I really am Madeleine Begun Kane.

But (and I know I sound paranoid) I’m convinced this will happen again. Why? Because my banishment was apparently triggered by my last batch of Limerick-Off announcement messages. (I send them only to Limerick-Off participants, but FB seems to think they’re SPAM.)

Okay, you’ve waited long enough. It’s time for a two-verse limerick:

Facebook Straits
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Dear Facebook, you’re driving me crazy.
I’m not careless or foolish or lazy.
So don’t claim you’ve detected
My puter’s infected.
It’s clean as a freshly cut daisy.

Though I’m not a technology wiz,
I know what the Koobface worm is.
And I checked — there’s no sign
Of a virus. None! Nein!
It appears that you don’t know your biz.

Update I thought, or at least hoped, that my FB travails were over. But apparently not. Wednesday night, when I tried to announce my new High-Tech Limerick-Off via Facebook group messages, FB refused to let me. Instead, it told me my message was SPAM. If I disagreed, I was instructed to write and explain why the “offending” message was kosher. I did that, of course, and await their response. In the meantime, I’m angry enough to write another limerick:

It seems Facebook does not give a damn
What it labels as unwanted SPAM.
My lim-off announcements
Are getting me bouncements.
Community? This one’s a sham.