As an avid Myspace stalker, I've come across several things on America's most colorful douchenozzer networking site that piss me off. Let's address these point by point, shall we?
Number One: The I Am Gorgeous, You Are Garbage Showcase
Okay, so you wear cleavage-bearing tank tops from H&M. You have hair that never falls out of place and lip gloss that never smudges. You've nailed three or four sexy poses, and most likely have a signature pose that appears in 18 or 19 shots in your photo albums. Must you further hammer the wooden stake into my chest with the endless redundant captions? "Me and my girls, looking hot as usual!" "You know you want this..." "Don't you wish your gf was a freak like me?" If you want to make homely girls jealous, why don't you get off the computer, meet them at the bar, and make out with the cute guy they hoped would approach them? Afterward, you can point at them with your finely manicured nail and giggle while they cry in a fetal position at the subway station.
Number Two: The Couples' Shrine (sometimes with babies)
Animal shrines are perfectly acceptable, don't get me wrong. I could stare for six straight hours at a photo of a large-eyed cocker spaniel wearing a neckerchief. But when you dedicate your profile to an overwhelmingly clingy relationship you've been in for three months, I get stomach cramps. To add insult to injury, couples' shrine profiles are often punctuated by endless back-and-forth comments between the guy's and girl's separate pages:
"Had so much fun last nite baby! You're my ittle wittle schnookum cakes and I will ALWAYS love you no matter what the haters may try to tell us!"
"Me too loveymuffpuffdoodle! Today I saw a commercial for Zales and totally dreamed of buying you that princess cut diamond you want! Just a few more years babe! Then it's you and me and our future children - Deke, Dakota, and Skylar!"
Number Three: The Superdouche Deep Intellectual Page
I like books. I like to think sometimes, and wear the occasional ironic t shirt after dark. Why do these qualities separate you from the rest of society? If your General Interests section reads like a Dennis Miller diatribe, I am not jazzed. Your love of obscure British television (i.e. The Office) and rage over the tumult in Darfur doth not make you special. We all know that at the end of the day, you peel off your Teddy Ruxpin zip-up, turn on Spike TV, and gorge yourself on Jack Links.
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