Today’s guest post is from AJ Passman, my good friend and favorite 25-year-old senior citizens pastor. Enjoy.
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You’re probably here because you saw “New blog post…” on Twitter. Everyone’s online, The Social Network has a 97% Fresh rating, and facebook is all over the news. Amid all the talk of cyber-bullies and security, the real danger of social networking is missed. What danger?

The danger of being that guy. You know, the guy I remove from my news feed because you have joined (and invited me to) every single cause, group, and event? Whose status updates are so long I have to scroll down the page?
In my extensive research (stalking), I am putting this out to you, my peers. Please, let’s police ourselves. Don’t make me poke you.

The MySpacer
I bet your profile picture is you with your shirt off standing in front of the bathroom mirror.
If your band Recycled Snakeskin hasn’t been “discovered” yet, it never will.
I already know everything I need to know about you, and you’re never allowed near my kids.
MySpace? Still? Really?

The Profound Guy
There really should be a “Please Retweet This” button. You’re just praying that your latest ambiguous post, The oak tree withstands the war trumpet of man, will inspire someone (preferably famous.)
With any luck, they’ll retweet, then write a book or song about it and put you in the acknowledgements.*

The Self-Friend
When you post a picture or video or link, you are NOT allowed to be the first one to comment on it. Ever.**

The Vanity Post-er
“Geez, one thing they don’t tell you about owning a Mercedes is how long it takes to get it properly waxed. #luxuryfail ”
This is the online version of a vanity license plate on the back of your Mitsubishi Montero. I know you’re rich, cool, and attractive, but I don’t really care that your shirts don’t fit anymore since you started working out again. #creatineshake

What have I missed? Are you guilty?

* Chances are, you’re quoting someone else already.
** Also unacceptable: “Like”-ing your own stuff. You posted it because you like it. I don’t need more proof.

(You know how I found out about Tyler Tarver? He wrote a ridiculously funny comment on one of my posts a while back. So funny, in fact, that I spent the next hour pouring over his entire site and watching his videos. The dude is funny. Fortunately for us, he’s guest posting today…)
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In the educational field, a lot of times you end up teaching students. Exactly four score minus 78 years ago, I gave a speech to my 7th period class entitled Don’t Be That Guy (emphasis on the that guy). It was for the benefit of one particular student of mine, who is like the Captain Planet of qualifications for the That Guy of the Year Award (last year’s winner: Edward Cullen). This was a time before I had any knowledge of this site, it’s corresponding DBTG videos, or Snooki. Now, here I am, sharing it with you like germs at a preschool. Some call it destiny, I call it destiny.

The Grab a Seat Comedian
If you glanced at the back of my Upper Deck MLT* trading card, my stats for saying Okay everyone, grab a seat, ranks up there with the amount of times Kanye West tweets grammatical errors. Worse than me saying it, worse than bobbing for 8-tracks in olive oil, worse than an grown woman getting a Twilight tattoo, worse than a drawn out sentence, is when a student literally grabs their desk and picks. it. up. All the while staring at me like I’m supposed to think him directly disobeying me and performing a joke I have not laughed/smiled at the last 8 times he’s done it or the last 76 times it has been done in my class is funny. Oh haha, hehe, lol, ssamylfasdbicypattystbwtagasahtotwwsotp.**

The You Missed Kid
Thanks, because when I tossed that dried up marker across the room and watched it bank off the side of the trash can onto the floor with my eyes was not proof enough for me. I was waiting for Robert Stack to come out and let us know in his haunting voice that The Case of the Tossed Marker might never be solved. But you stated so eloquently what over half the class and myself already knew, and for that, I’m going to let you know every time you fail a test that you’re probably going to work at a (insert mediocre profession that I might say in class and then inevitably someone tells me that their mom/dad/uncle Rico works there and I have to say it’s a good job for a 43 year old even though it’s not) for the rest of your life.***

The Puberty moves Faster than Personal Hygiene Etiquette Kid
A ratio is a comparison of two factors. For instance, in a class of 28 Ninth graders, there are at least 4 that have not been formally introduced to deodorant. That’s what we in the math business call a 1:7 ratio, aka A Soul Choker. How might you spot one of these kids? Three easy tips:

1) He just left P.E. where they did double line drills on the planet Sun.
2) He was wearing all-black, jeans, and is a certifiable Level 5 sweater.
3) He smells like a route 44 blend of raw milk, musty locker juice, and old man diarrhea was generously poured over his entire body.

The Cool because I didn’t do any of my Work Kid
Yes, yes, I am entertained and impressed that you came to class unprepared and woefully behind academically. Good call bragging about it too, cause I heard chicks really dig stupid guys. Actually, from my experiences in high school, being able to recite the Quadratic Formula never got me a lot of dates. Maybe it is cool to act dumb, but it’s not real helpful in getting a good job, which makes a lot of money, which I know for a fact girls like. I’m just kidding girls, you like guys with a personality, and rims, and money.****

I’ve got around 13 more, but Professor Stanton asked me to keep it under 400 words, and right now I’m sitting at 641. 642. Crap. 644.

I really do enjoy teaching most of the time.

Thanks Tyler, I hope this didn’t suck.

* Major League Teaching. It’s not one of the most popular selling sports cards, but it does come with a free stick of gum that you have to spit out before you enter the room.

** Stop smiling at me you little fart and sit down before I call your parents and tell them you said the b-word to a girl and smeared a human turd on the wall while spitting on the principal.

*** Sorry for the complication of that sentence. I’m a little nervous and I tend to ramble and veer off on tangents when I’m nervous. I also just really enjoy excuses to use asterisks. *****

**** This was completely a joke. Girls are cool, they’re one of the top 2 genders ever.

***** Those are asterisks.

I’ve been doing some extensive research the past couple of weeks on sports fans. I’ve been to a Braves game. I’ve scoured Twitter and Facebook. I’ve eavesdropped on numerous conversations. And I’ve realized this: there are a few types of fans that no one wants you to be. And by “you”, I mean “me”. It should be noted, before the ranting begins, that I am guilty of many of the undesirable characteristics I’m about to rail on.

The Perfect Teamer
His team has never done wrong. Every penalty, bad play, and even loss can and will somehow be blamed on poor officiating. I’ve found that there is a direct correlation between how diehard a fan is and how un-objective he is when things don’t go his team’s way. They make it hard to be around themselves.

The Fair Weatherer
Soap box alert: Atlanta experienced a lot of this with Brooks Conrad this past week. The guy was a freaking hero coming into the playoffs. Game-winning grand slams. Clutch hit after clutch hit to help us win the wild card. Then he makes some key errors* and Atlanta is ready to burn his jersey in the streets, Lebron-style.

The Wave Starter
I’ve talked about this guy before, but this list wouldn’t be complete without him. Click here to read about him in detail.

The Subjective Authority
This guy begins 88% of his sentences with the phrase “I’ll tell you what happened…”, followed by some definitive statement that he heard Colin Cowherd make on the radio that morning. Dude, I know you know if Brett Favre is going to retire or not, but just let ESPN do their job and talk about it every day of the entire summer.

The Fighter
I was at a game once where two guys started getting into a verbal sparring match. They eventually got to a point where fighting was the next logical step. Guy #1 shouted “You wanna take this outside?!” Guy#2 exclaimed “We are outside!” Then the hundred fans surrounding them mocked Guy #1 until he sat down in shame. Best fight I’ve ever seen.

The Poor Chopper
Your city probably has some unique thing that fans do during games. In Atlanta, we have the Tomahawk Chop. For those of you who don’t know, there are only two positions in the Chop – bent arm and extended arm. The beat that we chop to is far from complicated. Yet, somehow, Braves fans are physically incapable of getting on the same page with this. Watching a sellout crowd do the Chop is closely akin to watching a room full of our parents try to do the Cupid Shuffle together.

The Pessimist
This is the perfect way to describe us Georgia Tech fans. When something bad happens, we curse the team and shout things like “Classic Tech!” When something good happens, we act overly-surprised (especially in a crowd of people) and shout things like “Just wait…” I’ve found that this mindset makes it almost impossible to be disappointed.

Who did I miss?

I’m out of town today, so my friend (and book editor!) Lacey Keigley is going to be guest posting for me.
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Everyone has a blog these days, right?

I mean, if my grandmother was still living and if she wasn’t afraid of technology and if she didn’t believe that computers were designed by the devil himself to lure weak-minded people to the depths of hell, well – I think she’d have a blog too.

And every blog is a little bit different.
But all those blog writers want the same thing, you know.

Readers.
Commenters.
Some quasi-interaction with the faces that see your stuff across the country or across the world or across the room.

And I don’t always read blogs that are just like mine.

You don’t have to have six kids for me to think you are hilarious.
I don’t need to believe what you believe about God or hair implants or dog racing or body piercings.

But there are a couple of definite ways to be certain that I will not be reading your next blog post, no matter how many times you retweet the link to your 612 followers.

So if you are really concerned about my readership of your blog, you should probably not do any of the following:

Consistently spell loads of words wrong.
I’ll overlook an error in spelling or a typo or two every now and again.
Because I’m forgiving like that.
But come on – every post?
Just use the spellchecker provided right there on your screen.
It’s not as if you have to drag out the old Webster’s any longer.
It’s a feature on your wordpress/blogger/what-have-you site.

Include any reference to your DS or your DD.
Seriously.
It took me far longer than I care to admit to discover what DS or DD meant.
Tyler says only “mom bloggers” use this term.  He’s probably right.
But you can’t deny that those “mommy blogs” are an internet cash cow these days.
And if even one of those moms is reading right now – this will be worth it.
Because now I know DS means darling son – and I think it’s just plain silly.
It makes you sound as if you have a butler named Belvedere answering the door at your place.
Who refers to their child as “darling” all the time anyway?
Just people with butlers is all.

Feature some kind of background music that overrides whatever sounds I am already listening to when I click over to your blog.
I just want to catch a glimpse of what is happening at your house, with your kids or your greyhounds or your body piercings.  You know. Whatever it is.
And suddenly all I hear is a song I didn’t plan on listening to right now.
Alright, I’ll admit.  I might not actually stop viewing your blog forever, because hey – you might be my friend.
But I’m not kidding when I say I will definitely hit mute as quickly as my index finger can reach the fourth button from the right on my keyboard.

Run your ads down both sides of the site.
Maybe I am just being anal here.
That’s possible.
But if your ads overwhelm your content, I’m pretty much done looking.
I’m a lazy blog reader.
And if I have to work hard to read your words?
Well.  I just won’t be doing that.

Only put up a new post about every other month.
I went to your blog because I liked reading about you.  And how your hair implants are making you more popular than ever at the office Christmas parties.
But remember this – I am a lazy blogger.
I’ve already mentioned that once, okay?
I don’t have time to click over to your site only to be greeted by a post dated July of 2009.
You just wasted thirty-four seconds of my morning.
So, listen.
If you plan on only writing about every other month, you can pretty much assume that I will be reading you even less than about every other month.

Check out more of Lacey’s writing at her blog SoEveryday.com.
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Post sponsored by Atlanta Personal Injury Attorney, Robert N. Susko

Today we have the privilege of hearing from my former cyber-friend and current real friend, Bryan Allain. It’s bittersweet for me, really. I love having his content on my site, but I hate having my readers like his posts better than mine. I guess we can just chalk today up to an exercise in humility for me. Here’s yet another gem from Bryan…
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Saturday was my son Parker’s Opening Day for Little League, and if you’ve been to one opening day, you’ve been to them all. There’s team pictures, ceremonial first pitches, parading the kids around like prized cattle, the handing out of individualized tobacco pouches, and eventually they even play a baseball game.

We’re really looking forward to this season because we have a great coach this year, something that hasn’t always been the case. If you’ve been through a bad sports coach before, you know just how annoying it can be. And if you WERE that bad coach for someone, well, you probably had no idea.

But hey, that’s what I’m here for. I don’t want you to be that coach that everyone is rolling their eyes at from the first base bleachers. So here’s a quick list of things to avoid that make sure you don’t turn into the Awful Little League Coach.

1. Do Not Show Up 15 Minutes Late for Most Practices – Listen buddy, I have a job too. We all do. And yet for the 3rd time this month, you’re the only one who’s a half hour late. Or more importantly, the bats, helmets, and bucket of balls are a half hour late. I guess the kids can stop running laps and vomiting now.

2. Make Sure you know the Lingo – This isn’t a quiz, I promise. I’m not looking for 3 different nicknames for a left-handed pitcher . But I have to draw the line somewhere, and the fact that you just said, “C’mon guys, we need to score 2 more points this period!” has me a little worried.

3. Know Your Limitations – Considering you haven’t broken into a jog since the mid-90s, it was probably a bad idea to show the kids how to round third base at full speed. On the bright side, it’s not every day you see a grown man run into a fence.

4. Do Not Give Talks that last for more than 5 Minutes – I’ll admit, I’m impressed that you understand the physics of the curve ball. But you lost the kids 10 minutes ago when you started throwing out the principles of the Magnus Effect. How about we put the periodic table away and just play catch?

5. Speak Nicely – I don’t care how you talk to your kids, but I do care how you talk to mine. Raise your voice like that one more time and this situation is gonna get as ugly as your throwing motion. (Speaking of which, congratulations on throwing a ball for the first time in your life tonight.)

So there’s 5 tips to get you started on the road to not being an awful little league coach. I’m sure the fine patrons of this blog can fill in the blanks and give you some additional pointers in the comments.

Now get out there, throw some batting practice, and please Don’t Be That Guy.

(When Bryan’s not at the ball field you can find him writing about the humorous side of life, faith, pop culture, and living among the Amish at his blog, BryanAllain.com. You can also find him wasting time at twitter.com/bryanallain.)
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Post sponsored by Atlanta Personal Injury Attorney, Robert N. Susko