Smartassery

It seems all my friends, acquantainces, coworkers, etc. have profiles on one or all of the online prostitution friendship service mediums like MySpace. 

Confession in 5 4 3 2 1: I’m a narcissist. I always score high on those tests. To give you an idea, Napoleon scored two points less than me. That’s how mentally superior I believe myself to be am. In fact, I could write a vile science fiction (or venture capital, whatever) story, start a religion, and people would flock to MySpaceology headquarters in a heartbeat…with piles of money. Anyway…

However, my love of all things Beatrix Kiddo has never reached the level of desperate loserdom that comes with “I think I’m going to make friends, find my soulmate, snatch some sexual partners, and maybe even a spouse, by posting an online profile.” The chances of these things happening are indeed high. But the chances of them ever being successful are dismal. Tragic, maybe. Enlightening, not so much.

So I’m thinking, if you’re going to go ahead and sink to the pits of hell by doing this, don’t make it a snoozer. Every other profile I’ve been forced to read (at gunpoint, no less) it’s been as bland as a Gerber concoction.

If you have one or more of the following statements in your profile, I probably hate you. In no particular order:

1) I enjoy eating good food, drinking, sleeping, hanging out, and going out - There should be a rule against listing hobbies that are, you know, basic everyday activities that everyone else in the world has to do to ensure survival. “Do you enjoy sleeping? Me too! We should totally hang out!!” This doesn’t make you sound special. Actually it does. “Special” people of MySpace…Beyond this, if you know anyone who would actually enjoy eating “bad food”, drop me a line. There may be a Big Foot roaming around after all…and prize money involved.  

2) Music is my life - (But I don’t play an instrument, sing, work in the music industry, or know anyone who does). So essentially your only relation to music is that you consume it. In that case “water is my life” and “baby wipes are also my life” (side note – give your butt this gift, eons better that TP). Unless you indeed spend your life, and that’s a big word, scouring the racks at Virgin Records, eating cd’s, and breaking into raptures every time you hear a note or gaze at a partiture, music is NOT your life. 

3) I hate “fake people and liars” - Who are all these fake people running around that I keep hearing about? If everybody hates fake people, then how can there be anyone left to be fake? Maybe the fake people just don’t have Myspace pages. Yeah, that must be it.

4) Setup – Maybe putting a black background with dark blue letters sounds all radical and stuff but it really isn’t. We can’t read those brain droppings of yours because we are not, well, raccoons. Which actually it’s probably best for everyone seen as you are an idiot. So keep it in the dark, man. Crucial.

5) My kids – Ugh. Another rule should be that when you bring a life into the world, the part of your life that involved MySpace is over. Or at least it should be. It pains me to think of the rearing your child will receive when his mom’s profile still lists “clubbing and going out” as interests and has “Nasty Girls” as its embedded song.

It seems inevitable that there will soon be baby MySpace pages where breeders set up accounts for their babies and write crap like “my mommy is typing this for me” in the “about me” section. These children will have all their relatives and playdates added as friends and will keep their accounts as they grow up and get old enough to use it themselves. They will never remember not having a MySpace page. This makes me fear for our nation’s future.

6) You either hate me or love me - My attitude towards 99.5% of the people I meet is “I don’t give a shit.” To presume that you could command either my hatred or affection is incredibly arrogant. It also means you’re a drama queen who can’t stand to be ignored for five seconds.

7) wutz up – You have no dignity. Or an education. Now we know.

I’m just so horny. I’m a rebel. I can do 20 people during lunch, etc. - When this did turn into rubourgenitalstogether.com? Advertising to the world that you are a whore or a “player” gets old and as it turns out is no longer a uniquely identifying trait. According to all these profiles, everyone is not only superhorny but can also stretch the limits of human sexual performance. In addition, your “rebellious” self will really think it was a bad idea to boink those hundred guys instead of going to college, when your unemployed ass is rearing seven brats while fighting STD’s, or when you’re found in a canal in Arkansas victim to the Hitchhiker Assassin’s love of sharp objects.  

9) I believe in (veganism, atheism, satanism, whatever). If you can’t handle that, then you don’t need to read any further - Pretty much the same as number 2. And also number 5. Stop trying to make your hobby sound like your life’s consuming passion; I bet half your friends don’t even know about your -ism and they “handle” you just fine. In fact, you’re probably writing about it so confrontationally because you don’t have the spine to say such things in real life to real people.

10) Underage Jailbait - If you’re 18 or under, then do us all a favor and get the fuck off of MySpace. Now. Unless you like duct tape and long van rides with toothless fifty year old Harry Potter enthusiasts, no good can come of it. It’s not just concern for your safety that makes me say this; you are going through the stupidest years of your life, and broadcasting them (and your address) into cyberspace. If there was a Google-cached copy of all the idiotic things I wrote in my friend’s year books, I’d probably want to hang myself. Which brings us to…

11) Dead kids - Wow. You died. That sucks, it really does. Now could one of your surviving relatives have the decency to take your page down? I know it gives your friends a place to type that they “miss u so much” (Jesus the Jew, can’t you even spell correctly for your friend’s EULOGY?!), but you’re giving me the creeps, smiling at me from that profile picture like you’re still among the living. Exactly how long is your grieving family going to leave that page up? Forever? Forever-ever? Ever-ever? I guess your friends will finally have some closure on your death when they move you out of their top 8. I just really hope that when I die, there won’t be an eternal monument to all the terrible bands I liked right before I kicked the bucket.

There are more of these, but they escape me right now. Please, people, remember that these websites are just shrines we set up for ourselves. The more effort you put in to showing the world how unique you are is probably proportionate to how low your self-esteem level is.

Here’s a thought. Why don’t you get out of your cubbyhole and actually go out and meet people? And by this I mean, don’t bother and shoot yourself already.  

This entry was posted on Friday, October 20th, 2006 at 7:05 pm and is filed under rants. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.