Face Book makes my brain hurt

Face Book has given the faceless masses a voice that wines, boosts, exults, complains and chatters incessantly about the most mundane tripe the human mind can possibly create. I must say to all of those tragically hip face bookers that no one gives a shit about your boyfriend, girlfriend, wife, husband, ankle biting offspring, what you had for dinner, your new black berry, the asshole you ran into in traffic on your way to work, or any of the other routine bullshit that every single person in the world experiences each and every day. None of these anecdotes are that interesting. I think as a sociological experiment I'll post updates on my bowel movements in my face book status. It's my opinion that that will be just as interesting as the regurgitation of creativity of others in the form of song lyrics and quotes from popular movies and dietary journals that dull eyed automatons scrawl on face book walls every day. Some people have no business expressing themselves, most of them have face book accounts.

I would just cancel my face book account and spare myself the torment but how would I tell my extended circle of friends how much I enjoy not having a face book account.