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What the f–k did i do before myspace?

November 3, 2009

I often ask myself this question, where on earth did i source the obsequious comments that plague mine and my “top friends'” profiles before MySpace? Ugh, when i think back to the times pre-MySpace, i’m transported to an age where conversation occurred, where real life interaction with actual human beings existed and where breathing oxygen from outside happened more than once a week.  It all started with Faceparty, remember that? I remember going to my friend’s house, taking a picture of MYSELF (unheard of 9 years ago) on her amazing new gadget ‘The Webcam’ and uploading it onto a profile i thought to be a witty yet true representation of myself – a trip back in time reveals i was an atypical “zany” teenager that spontaneously blurted out random words on the fly in order to appear ‘quirky’ and ‘wacky’. Barf.  The fun of Faceparty soon withered away upon realising that it was mainly full of Ford-loving ‘roiders with god-awful tribal tattoos and a desperate thirst to call every young pretty thing a “sexy beast”.  Then came Friendster.  A paired-down version of MySpace where people provided testimonials and not comments.  People would highlight your character strengths to the world as if to reaffirm that you are a worthy internet citizen as capable of occupying the same area of electronic space as anyone else,  they would be posted to your page like the sports day trophies adorning your dining room dresser.  In terms of era, Friendster would have been the 1950’s: everyone was a little more polite and a little less self-indulgent.  However, times changed and people started putting on make-up and wearing less clothes before taking photos on their webcams and soon enough technology progressed rapidly enough so that the average prole could afford their very own digital camera.  That’s when the internet celebrities started popping up, the Tila Tequilas and whatever that bitch with the candy pink hair is called.  Along came MySpace, oh…the dawn of a new era of self-indulgent self-serving young folk determined to gain acceptance via the respective ‘upload photos’ and ‘edit profile’ icons on their pages.  I was and AM one of those people.  6 years of evolutionary social networking and i’m about as cringeworthy as they come, but definitely not the worst.  A soon-to-be twenty-five year old taking photos of herself in her untidy bedroom living with her parents.  It’s almost too sickening to type let alone only partially realise.  What’s odd is the inexplicable compulsion to do this when i know that in a few weeks, possibly days, i’m going to look at the photo and collapse inwardly like a badly cooked soufflé and think “oh my fucking god, what is wrong with me?”.  Then i’ll replace it with something a little sluttier or a littler classier, (more commonly the former) and show myself as the assuming harlot i am to the other 10 trillion time wasters with a MySpace account.  Then i’ll add a cute/funny/unwitty caption to highlight the theme of the awfulness i’ve just uploaded into the atmosphere.  It’s a fairly nauseating affair all round but curiously addictive to anyone reliant on the internet being their sole means of communication.  Which is me i suppose.  So what now? Is there an expiry date to all this? When is it going to be seriously unacceptable for me to shamelessly pose, pout and preen myself in front of a camera, enhance it in Picasa and spread it all over my MySpace/blog/twitter like an ageing cougar desperate to shag the eyeballs out of anything that moves in her field of vision? (i’m not, boys are rubbish and i’d rather go a lifetime without “it” than have to deal with their astronomically twattish behaviour) I think it already is unacceptable and in truth never has been acceptable, at least not to anyone with an ounce of pride.  Something i lack terribly.  I think the sooner i delete my MySpace account the quicker i can work out how to give and receive a compliment without spluttering “lol” at the end of the sentence, i’m just not ready to yet.   I’ll continue my descent into idiocy via Facebook, which it seems is a place for grown ups and serious people yet it bombards me daily with puerile quizzes like  “how old are you going to be when you die in agonising pain from pancreatic cancer” or “what is your personality disorder” (apparently my personality disorder is simply ‘personality disorder’ which i assume covers all the main emotionally defective bases) and “which twilight character are you?”

I’m Bella of course, you fool.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. nesssy permalink
    November 4, 2009 10:54 am

    why aren’t you doing a degree in journalism? I am dead serious. You are a really good writer, I could see you writing for Frankie!

  2. November 4, 2009 2:00 pm

    haha hmm..

  3. nesssy permalink
    November 5, 2009 8:16 am

    shut woman and do it

  4. November 5, 2009 10:04 am

    Ok i’ll do it if you find me Windows Humour v4.0 and Windows Vocab beta2.0 and download them directly into my head.

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