Column:
MySpace users are a bunch of freaks
Published Aug. 24, 2007
I've got big news. I, Ryan Beck, am the object of someone's affection.
Let me tell you a little about her. She randomly found me on MySpace.com, then she wrote me this message that said, "U have a really hot layout, let's chat sometime. Check out my pix, stud muffin!" Her name is "Sexay Susan" and she is obviously totally in love with me. I know, right? Anyhow, things are looking pretty serious, but there seem to be a lot of other guys posting comments on her pictures that say things like, "Damn Gurl, I be wantin to hit dat!"
OK, so I'm not really in some kind of cyber love triangle, or dodecagon for that matter, with some serial MySpace stripper and a bunch of creepy dudes that take shirtless pictures of themselves in the mirror. But, with all of these kinds of messages out there, one would only assume that there are lonesome guys sitting at home thinking, "Yeah, LuvChild913 really does like me."
My first question is, who are these people? And my next one would be, how come everyone has to douche up his or her screen name and take half-naked pictures of himself or herself in a mirror to own a MySpace account?
Seriously, just keep your shirt on and give someone else the camera. If you can't find anyone else to hold the camera, then just walk up the steps and ask your mother, who you're most likely still living with, to take a nice picture of you for your Web page.
Maybe it's just me, but the Internet dating scene just seems like a horrible endeavor. You know exactly what kind of weird people you're going to meet online. Trying to find an interesting date over the Internet is like trying to find the only nonvirgin at the local Battlestar Galactica Convention. It's just not likely.
I don't choose these kinds of cyber-methods to find dates. You can usually find me in the library or local Subway when I'm looking for a good candidate for a date simply because my kind of woman is the chubby nerd. I don't know why, but those girls drive me crazy. Maybe I'm the one who's messed up, but a stick-figure girl that is caked in makeup and barely clothed just seems to be lacking something.
Perhaps if she spent less money on hairspray and makeup, she could afford clothes that fit her and a good-sized meal that does not consist of steamed carrots. But, hey, I'm just thinking out loud here.
All I'm saying is that finding shirtless, conceited creepies over the Internet is like attracting raccoons at a campsite: It's inevitable. But, if you're really desperate for some play and convinced you don't want to be weird over the Internet, why not just be weird in real life? Just wait in the bushes at Walgreens for the girls filling up their birth control prescriptions. It's like shooting fish in a barrel - or so I'm told. And I'm sure the girls you can take home after that are sure to have an active MySpace account.
So, you MySpace kids, go ahead and date your shallow mannequin-esque girls. I'm fine with that, because, meanwhile, I will be at the park pretending to read a book with big words on the front, peering over the edge ever so sneakily and trying to spot some special cuties. Look out world.