Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes

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Just when I think I’ve witnessed every possible absurdity on our Farrah Fawcett Facebook fan page, someone swoops in to raise the bar. The comments section has evolved into a surreal carnival of confusion — a living museum of people posting before thinking. It’s basically a nonstop game show called “You Think You're an Idiot? Here, Hold my Beer.”

But lately, the comments have evolved into something even more spectacularly clueless. Someone recently wrote, “Beautiful, but not blonde.” Really? Because every photo, poster, and shampoo commercial from the 1970s would beg to differ. Then came the gem that declared, “She looks like a man.” Ah yes — because nothing says “thoughtful critique” like calling one of the most recognizable beauty icons of her era “a man.” You can practically hear the brain cells packing up and leaving the conversation.

And just when I thought the barrel had been scraped clean, along came a new masterpiece: “Farrah Fawcett can’t act.” Of course. She only carried one of the most popular television series of the decade, earned multiple Golden Globe and Emmy nominations, and delivered a career-defining performance in The Burning Bed that critics still reference decades later. But sure — let’s hear more from the armchair expert whose cinematic education likely comes from reality TV reruns and TikTok filters. It’s the kind of take that makes you wonder if some people think acting just means standing still and blinking twice for the camera.

Then there’s a special corner of the internet reserved for those who treat the comments section like a locker room. They’ll post things like, “Farrah's nipples should have gotten a co-starring credit in this episode,” or, “The boxes of Kleenex I went through as a teen with her poster.” Yes, it really does go that low — the kind of crude, juvenile commentary that reminds you why certain people shouldn’t be allowed near a keyboard without supervision. It’s disgusting, degrading, and frankly, pig-like.

And inevitably, someone drags Farrah’s illness into the mix — twisting it into a bizarre morality tale about her supposed “lifestyle choices.” Because apparently, no online thread is complete without its resident doctor of bad taste. It’s cruel, ignorant, and completely irrelevant — the digital equivalent of shouting nonsense at a memorial service. At that point, I usually just sit back and let the comment section eat them alive.

Over time, I’ve stopped getting annoyed and started treating it like performance art. My rule is simple: play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Post something ridiculous, and you’ll earn your reward — a delete, a block, or maybe a well-deserved wave of laugh emojis, eye-rolls, and glorious sarcastic responses. It’s not cruelty; it’s digital karma doing its job.
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Here’s the bottom line: real fans bring respect, not ridiculousness. They post memories, favorite roles, rare clips, and words that celebrate who Farrah was. They lift the fandom up. The rest can keep playing in the comments carnival, forever chasing their next stupid prize.