Tuesday, October 17, 2006

My Space

Well, now all throngs of grey templed Monty Pythonquotin' 1960's music-Air America-Ipod listenin' retro movie watchin' Whole Foods marketin' swing dancin' tofu-eatin' Cabernet drinkin' Food Network watchin' Belgian Trappist ale sniffin' hybrid drivin' cilantro choppin' IKEA shoppin' old gas passers so over-the-hill we no longer have even the vaugest idea where the damn hill is anymore have belatedly discovered myspace.com.

Don't believe it? Want proof? Holy s#$%&t, I'm on
myspace and so are a lot of my friends and contemporaries. The young, hip and trendy among us, without a doubt, abandoned myspace as oh-so-very-passé before George W. Bush (a.k.a. "The Decider") accused John Kerry of being a "flip-flopper."

The most hilarious thing about joining myspace is some of the people who immediately show up in the inbox as your "friends". A typical one: "I'm (fill in a twenty-something age), looking to meet guys and fool around. Here's a link to my NUDE PICTURES."

At this moment, heterosexual males of all nations, races, creeds and intelligence quotients can be seen transforming into Cro-Magnon level slobbering "Tex Avery wolves" at their monitors and mindlessly following that link. . . which will inevitably lead to a porn or adult dating site that will invariably ask for info like home and cell phone numbers, address, SSN, credit card #s, etc. Sly Stone made a great album titled There's A Riot Goin' On - I believe "There's A Scam Goin' On" here.

Of course, it works - every time. To quote Blue Collar Comedy tour standup maestro
Jeff Foxworthy's take on what guys actually think, "Ah wanna beer and ah wanna see somethin' nekkid."

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