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Friday, September 09, 2005

YOU SAY MYSPACE, I SAY HEADACHE 

First of all, someone came here searching for "Bitsy twat".

Bitsy is my dog. Sicko dogfucker(s).

Secondly, (speaking of bitsy twats), I am creating a profile for someone on MySpace. I hate Myspace. They are also sicko dogfuckers and juvenile delinquents and wannabe jailbait teenage crackwhore Future Porn Stars of America trying to get knocked up by their sweet sixteen/quincinera.

The templates I'm perusing have names like "Hello Kitty Kamono" [sic], "Skankerton", and "Mac Daddy Vampire." One particular charmer is called "Haterz" and is described, "this is profile with a boy peeing on the word haterz its very cool borders and stuff check it out." Kool, dudz. U R so boss. <--Does everyone on Myspace type like this?!

"Vida Guerra" promises, "if you like red, Vida, and ass, you'll like this." How quaint...! Another real gem reads, "love happy people that realize computers are just a toy...the real thing is behind the toy, lol." HUH?! I certainly hope English is their second language. And a third, apparently designed by an incarcerated Dominican gangbanger, says it is "all bout blaze, was poppin Pimps. Dominican Papichulo aka Daddy right here, chea. check out my 'Pubic' profile."

Uh...no.

Besides being 14 and illiterate, are they all colorblind, or wha...? There are pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, green clovers, and purple horseshoes flashing and dripping from everything. It is enough to cause an epileptic fit and/or nausea due to motion sickness. Plus you may well go deaf if you forget to turn down your speakers - the little punks have the option to add obnoxious music to their profiles. It's like a rave for your PC, and your monitor has just taken ecstasy and is rubbing up against some gross, sweaty, Glo-Stick-twirling dumb guy it would normally never be caught dead with. Ugh.

Thirdly, there is no thirdly.

I have a headache.

YOU SAY MYSPACE, I SAY HEADACHE
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