I can’t lie: Facebook and I are homies. If Facebook was my ladyfriend, we’d likely share fine milkshakes together while poking, gaming, reading, judging. We’d hold hands firmly and watch suns set, all while pondering where to order cheap, delicious takeout.

Lately, though, I’ve got a gripe. My precious News Feed has been inundated with oversharing – personal posts sent out to the masses, cultivating a social world devoid of any social norms. Where did our boundaries go? Have we no shame anymore? Just because we have the power and ability to share what we had for lunch with all 729 of our friends, acquaintances, family members, and that one kid you met at a concert once doesn’t mean we should. And let’s be honest: Facebook blunders of late have been far less forgivable than the simple photo of the mediocre sushi you consumed yesterday.

Look at the baby. Look at the baby. Yes, I do believe I may have caught one of the 250 photos of your lovely little newborn…that you posted in the last two days. Congratulations on your new addition and all, but your profile picture, featured photos, and status are completely consumed by your Blue Ivy Carter. Frankly, it’s exhausting. If you’re currently pregnant, please spare everyone you’ve ever said “hello” to the creepiness of your sonogram photo. Dude, that’s the inside of you. Excuse me for not wanting to see your uterus. Your Mom may care, but trust me: we don’t.

Mental or physical illness. I’m not a completely cold-hearted bastard, but if you’re a truly close friend and I’m reading about your depression on Facebook, that’s a huge red flag for your wavering sanity. It boggles my mind how many people have such difficulty having real conversations with someone who loves them, but have zero issues spewing awkward life stories, tragedy, or other family dramas all over the Interweb. Yikes, man.

YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED! You and the rest of the world. Spare me with your “472 days until my WEDDING!!!” countdown. I don’t care that you found a florist, a DJ, a caterer, or a venue. If I did, I’d ask about it. In person.  Don’t you ever get tired of talking about yourself? We don’t need a minute-by-minute replay of your planning. Remember in grammar school when you couldn’t hand out invitations to your stupid dinosaur themed birthday party unless you were going to invite everyone? The same should apply to weddings in the world of social networking. The level of wedding-based narcissism on the rise is flabbergasting.

So who cares what this asshole thinks, right? Maybe. But I beg you: Utilize the tools Facebook provides for you! Create customized lists of your core peeps. Target your information, and share with those who truly want to know that your baby just kicked for the first time, or that your Pad Thai was cold by the time you ate it. Create your own Shutterfly or Picasa photo album for your 2-year-old whats-‘er-name. Share with a closer knit circle of people, and prevent pedophiles or sex offenders from peeking at your youngens. It’s called security, people!

Although I love Facebook with all my heart, I’m beginning to view it as a necessary evil. Despite my heightened activity of judging you (which, if you’re keeping up, I mostly think is your fault anyways), I know there are others out there like me, longing for a simpler time. Times they are a-changin’ and I won’t argue – it’s way easier to coast down stream than it is to struggle up river. It’s just that serious, real life grown-up stuff is best shared over a round of tasty beers.