Thursday, January 26, 2006

MySpaced Out

I would like at this time to extend a heart FUCK YOU! to the creators of the internet phenomenon. A pox upon your family line you bastards!

If I could find you I would kick your asses until your shoulder blades humped up between his shoulder blades. I hope your plane crashes into a volcano; I hope you choke to death on a rusty syringe; I hope stray cats piss in your loafers; I hope that homeless men use your family coat of arms to wipe their asses - whatever, just shrivel up and fucking die already.

In a moment of blindness, I got suckered into hastily creating my own MySpace website as a further means to expand my "internet horizons" beyond these little realms of online Shangri-la, that hopefully, you guiltily visit from time to time. As it was explained to me at the time, it had more user features than the new 2006 Escape Hybrid E85 SUV wagon. It was supposed to be the new prefered variety of internet crack for single geeks. But irregardless, I quickly found out that was nothing more than a front for nutbars, freaks and perverts. And we all know that the world needs another one of those kinds of internet sites like it needs another Steve Martin family movie.

So now, despite the fact that I have long since deleted this abomination from my life and my computer - or so I thought - I continue to recieve regular email invites from a whole host of strange wackjobs from God-knows-where, all wanting to attract me back to their own MySpace lair of inequity. Clearly, I was feeling about as out of place in this Brave New World as had I worn a '2 Live Crew' t-shirt to a Klan rally.

Enriques? Bert? Rando? Sloppychick? WHO THE FUCK ARE THESE PEOPLE?

Honestly, would you ever allow yourself to be caught cavorting around with a guy named Rando? And Sloppychick? Christ, I just wanted to perhaps share in a little sick humor with other like-minded assholes such as myself, not join the court of Queen Fucksalot and her Cocks of the Round Table.

There's just somthing very, shall I say, "internet predator", about One minute you're accepting ramdom invites and swapping emails, and the next thing you know you're waking up in a tub of ice and your kidneys are being auctioned off on Ebay. And yet - these emails continue coming despite having gone through the normal steps for deleting created account as listed in the MySpace webguide. I'm like the 'Ghost of MySpace Past' for fuck sakes!

I tried adjusting the spam setting on my email account in the hopes that these "e-vites" would just go away. Unfortunately, Bill-fucking-Gates wearing kryptonite underwear couldn't keep this flood of MySpace emails from arriving in my inbox every day! Emails from my own MOTHER are routed to my junkmail - MySpace, however, has a permanent bead on my position.

How do you stop this insanity? I mean, really, these emails are starting to scare me. I'm afraid that one of these psychos will locate me and my face will end up as a lampshade in some creepy apartment. But how do you undo what apparently can't be undone?

Quite the quandry. But what the fuck, if you can't beat 'em - join 'em.


Blogger Hamrose said...

LOL. Oh man! Thanx for the warning. I'll be sure to keep far away. (Kidney's auctioned off on e-bay...Howling...just howling)

5:02 AM  
Blogger nukie310 said...

MySpace is ONLY for kids and pedophiles. Stay away from it.

9:50 AM  
Blogger Me said...

Your posts are the best.

CrazyTigerRabbitMan...I think I love you.

2:17 PM  
Blogger Wandering Coyote said...

But you have SEVEN whole friends!! How many did you have before?

4:03 PM  
Blogger ha said...

crazytigerrabbitman i am here 96 liters and all more than eight have you friends

5:40 PM  
Blogger K. Restoule said...

AW man. You SOLD OUT!!!! I wil never do the crappy myspace crap. Yuck Yuck.

I'm still condering buying "" as a domain.

5:20 PM  
Blogger crazytigerrabbitman said...

Yes, it would seem that I do have seven whole friends. Of course, these wwre before the watershed of really creepy evites about began to arrive daily. I will refer to these core survivors as my own original "Group of Seven".

9:19 PM  

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