For the love of all that's Holy...

People, I know I post one of these about, what, every six months, but please, please, screaming fucking please stop posting mindless bulletins on MySpace. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. My page says there's over a million people in my network and I'm bettin' you're in there somewhere. It's fucking infuriating the way people will buy into anything. Stop it. I've gone so far as to compile a list of bogus gimmicks, just in case you get too stoned and need a reference.



1. Fuck's sake, Tom makes more money on MySpace than everyone else in your network will ever make combined. That said, he's never going to start charging for MySpace, close MySpace, or otherwise alter MySpace's availability to every broke ass Tom, Dick and Harry on the planet. If you see a bulletin supposedly by Tom, e-mail the stupid motherfucker who posted it last and tell them that the best part of them obviously didn't make it all the way to the egg. Rest assured, I'll do the same for you.

2. You're never going to know who visits your profile. I promise. You're just going to have to keep dilluding yourself into believing that people flock to your page to marvel at it's ridiculously high level of awesome, and occasionally touch themselves to. Trust me, if there really was a counter out there, and you were so pathetic that you cared enough to risk looking like a dumbass by reposting the bullshit, and you were subjected to the horrible truth that no one has checked your page since you begged them to via e-mail, you'd probably kill yourself.
Oops.

3. Those inhabiting the Ether have abso-fucking-lutely no interest in what you do on your MySpace. That said, if you repost anything that threatens you with the imminent arrival of some trumped-up urban legend demon who will kill you, rape you and eat you (and if you're lucky, in that order) if you don't repost in seven hundred and seventy seven seconds, it's a safe bet that you were a crack baby. I know of no other substance under no other circumstances that could make someone that retarded.

4. I won't say that there's no one who cares about your new pictures. I, however, am one of the people who don't. Those who do have likely subscribed to you anyway (more on this later, you bastards) and can see plainly when you add fifty-seven face shots that you tried so, so hard to make look like you didn't take them yourself because you're a fucking narcisist. In short, the three people who actually give a rat fuck about seeing your face from ten different angles will figure it out. Stop bugging me with it.

5. I brought up subscriptions earlier, and said I would return to it. People. Honestly. What the hell kind of non-stop minisode adventures are you going on that you have to change your page fifteen times a day? What the hell is wrong with you? I'll change my status a couple times, that's two for those of you who didn't know that, in a month. Tops. Sure, I work a lot, but so does the rest of the world. If you have nothing better to do than change your profile information every time the last two braincells you have left bump into one another and form a thought, you don't need a computer. You need a shrink.

6. Granted, there are a lotta' people on MySpace, but Osama bin Laden isn't one of them. Enough with the "Stop This Terrorist Group!" bulletins. Back when I saw it for the first time in 2005, and tried to look up the group so I could see what the qualifications were for joining just 'cause my curiosity makes me a freak like that, they didn't exist. Guess what? They still don't. Go have a cookie and wave a flag you callow, easily manipulated fucks.



These are merely guidelines. There are all manner of lame-ass examples I could give, and all of them are just as annoying to those of us intelligent enough to recognize shit before we spread it, but I don't really feel like holding your hand on the way to becoming a more intelligent person. Or, at the very least, halting the spread of material that makes people less intelligent. Have a pleasant day, though may you rot in hell tomorrow and for eternity, morons.