Posts Tagged ‘internet’

In the mid-2000s MySpace was the most popular place to hangout. The social networking website turned what could have been fully functioning social adults into mindless drones afraid to leave their house on the weekend. I am one of those drones and I miss the good old days of MySpace. Facebook never quite lived up to the wonders MySpace provided me in life. Twitter is too simple and pointless while Tumblr needs that missing vowel to earn my respect. The days of MySpace are over and there are five specific things I miss about it most compared to the website I feel killed it off, Facebook.

tom myspace

(Please tell me I’m not the only one who thought that MySpace Tom was giving a thumb up only to later realize it was an illusion from the shadows)

1) The ability to meet new people

Facebook’s privacy settings are so strong that I originally made my account to help a friend stalk his ex-girlfriend to see what she was up to. MySpace was not like this, at least not at first. Of course after a while the privacy settings went up after people were concerned their bosses would find out that they were avid drug users. Because of this, Facebook makes it nearly impossible to make new friends without seeming like a creep. My MySpace profile was so ingenious that I would have random people adding me on an almost daily basis. They got to see my creative side and were legitimate fans of my nonsense. Facebook is now more of a site for adding people you already met in person. I never meet people in person and when I do I never remember their names anyway so we kind of go our separate ways after a night of fun. Facebook makes real-life relationships more like one-night stands whereas MySpace opened it up to the possibility of friends with benefits, a continuous relationship.

2) The ability showcase your talents

Facebook does not having a blogging system in place, one of my favorite MySpace features that people seemed to sometimes care about. MySpace gave me so many chances to be silly and unlike a Facebook status, they didn’t disappear into oblivion after a few days. My favorite thing about MySpace was filling out surveys with ridiculous answers then enjoying the praise I got after. Facebook does have the “notes” option, something that few people use and even fewer ever read. Bands were easily able to put up songs while the rest of us were able to put up music we liked, showcasing how great our taste in music was. Comedians too were able to upload the dates they would be performing. Things were so simple and MySpace acted as a website for many talented people to show off. It’s like that again with the new structure, but nobody uses MySpace outside of a couple of people who are so far behind they still haven’t heard that the Mayans were wrong about their 2012 apocalypse prediction.

3) Less personality on Facebook

I’m not the world’s most attractive person. Granted I could probably bribe my way into winning an office pool for “best-looking” and it not surprise too many people. My personality is what has always gotten me by in life and Facebook makes it shallower, where I am judged more on my face than anything else. I hate being judged by my face. I have to dehydrate myself just to get cheekbones. At any given time I have at least two rashes that if left to grow form a Pangaea by the end of the week. I loved on MySpace when I could find out the ugly girl in math class had a great sense of humor or that the guy all of the girls fawned over couldn’t put together a complete sentence if his life depended on it. Facebook is boring and without the ability to meet new and interesting people, it’s just a rehash of all of the boring people I know in real life.

4) Less danger on Facebook

As much as some overprotective parents assumed MySpace was filled with perverts, pimps, and prostitutes, the truth is the majority of users were like you and me. MySpace always did have a slight sense of danger around it, but so does driving a car. I think we have all met at least one person in real life that we had originally started talking to through MySpace. Sometimes these people actually led to real relationships, some lasting much longer than others. I miss the sense of danger MySpace gave me. Facebook is so safe that whenever I add a girl I don’t know she can immediately delete me before asking who I am. The Internet used to be the Wild West and now it’s more like the Wild Wild West film starring Will Smith, incredibly disappointing.

5) Celebrity encounters, real and fake

Very few celebrities actually use Facebook under true profiles. Why bother? There is a friend limit and does Miranda Cosgrove really need the self-confidence that comes whenever someone likes her status? She had a show about having a show. The girl has self-esteem shooting out all over the place. On MySpace I would add celebrities all of the time, mostly stand-up comedians because they were the most accessible and relatable. Many of them would actually send me messages, one telling me to stop posting so many bulletins. The best was whenever they would respond unsolicited. I had one comedian actually read a bulletin I posted about making my stand-up comedy debut and he actually wished me luck. In addition to the real profiles, I liked the fake ones too. Seeing fake profiles that made celebrities look like morons, jerks, or anything else satirical was something that always made me laugh. Facebook is pretty strict about using your real name and most fake profiles are deleted. Of course with Twitter you can still follow celebrities, but for me it’s not the same. MySpace was so much better.

Here’s something I wrote for Yahoo about the pros and cons of limited Internet access. It was one of the first things I ever got paid to write and I immediately spent those $3 on paying for half of a sandwich.

al gore

I was the last kid on my street to get Internet access. I know this for a fact because my parents would have us sneak into the neighbor’s homes when they were away on vacation; this breaking and entering counting as my family’s vacation. Every home up and down Overton Road had Internet access. My dad finally began paying for Internet when I was in seventh grade. At first I was hooked, staying online constantly. Then I lived a few places without the Internet. I learned over time there are pros and cons when it comes to having Internet access readily available.

Pro: You have an excuse for not knowing everything in the world

The Internet has every piece of information available on it, the greatest of all being dirt on new people you meet. When you have access people expect you to take advantage of this readily available information. Telling people you don’t have the Internet at home provides the perfect excuse for not knowing big news or who the President of the United States is. It’s like being stuck in the 1920s minus the constant fear of a typhoid breakout.

Con: You have trouble discovering new things

The best way to find new music these days is searching on YouTube. Without the Internet it’s nearly impossible to find new music without a friend suggesting it. If your friends are anything like mine, they will suggest listening to “that new English singer, Sting.”

Pro: You don’t discover those new things

While you can find great new music you are also less likely to stumble across the bad stuff. I have no clue what Justin Bieber’s singing voice sounds like. I had such little Internet access during his rise to fame that he could scream for help from one room over and I would have no clue it was him. Why Justin Bieber is in my apartment screaming for help, that’s a topic for another day.

Con: Less contact with friends/acquaintances

I use social networking sites like Facebook to keep in touch with friends I am not likely to see in person very much. It’s a great way to not disappear off the face of the earth from them. When you can’t get online as frequently these friendships can lose their strength.

Pro: Less contact with friends/acquaintances

Some friends are lousier than others. When a friend you don’t like very much communicates via the Internet more than anywhere else, you have the perfect excuse to skip their birthday party, wedding, and possibly funeral. “Sorry. I haven’t been online” is a legitimate excuse in today’s world to miss out on everything.

Con: Lack of entertainment

A lot of my entertainment comes from the Internet. I stream radio stations, read blogs, and play fantasy baseball. Hey ladies, interested? Going online is a huge distraction that can numb your mind and take you away from the daily grind. Entertainment is highly underrated in our society. Something as simple as a picture of an angry cat gives people hours of enjoyment now. I may not agree with this, but that’s just the way it is.

Pro: Saving money

As is the case with everything in life, Internet access costs money. This was a big reason why I chose not to have it in my home. As a 22-year-old working part-time not making very much money and living alone, I had to pinch pennies wherever I could. There are plenty of free places you can use the Internet. Did you know libraries still exist? They have Internet access too. There are also coffee houses, restaurants, and a few other places that will let you steal their Internet. My personal favorite place is going to a hotel lobby. Not only do you get high-quality Internet access, nobody bugs you. I did this for an entire year whenever I needed to get online. If you decide to do this, make sure you never overstay your welcome. Sometimes I would stay in my car so the same hotel desk clerks wouldn’t see me coming in then leaving after an hour three days a week. After writing this section I now know what my ex-girlfriend meant when she called me cheap.

Con: People will think you are weird

Most people thought I was very strange when I would tell them I didn’t have Internet access. They would say it like the rest of me was so normal. Admittedly I am a bit of a blowhard. I don’t use iPods, I don’t watch current sitcoms, and I think baseball was better in the 1920s. There are still plenty of people in this country that don’t have Internet access in their home. The only reason I broke down and have it now is because the nearest library either never has access or the librarians give me dirty looks. Now with the Internet at home I can embrace the hermit lifestyle. It feels great. I wonder what the weather has been like this summer.

I saw a meme online. When I got finished vomiting over the fact we communicate with brief pictures with a few words slapped onto it (we are much more advanced than that, I think) I thought about it.

The meme was a picture of Batman pulled over by the police saying how the man behind the mask is a millionaire who spent all of this money on a costume and batmobile. What he does with this other than get laid all of the time is visit children in hospitals.

batman-on-lamborghini-gallardo-spyder-3

My first reaction to this was I don’t give a hoot! Why should I? It doesn’t affect me. That’s kind of my attitude about life now. I know it sounds terrible and like I’m becoming a worse person, but it really makes me happier. The way I see it there are two types of people. There are people who don’t want to inconvenience others and people who don’t want to be inconvenienced. Instincts tell me that I don’t want to be someone who inconveniences others. I am inherently good and after 26 years on this planet now with bad joints, I’m starting to see the ramification of doing what you think is good all of the time. There’s a difference between right and good. Good is doing everything someone tells you to do, like a dog. Right is asking what the benefit is for you, the person, and society as a whole.

Whether it’s true or not that this guy visits hospitals to help dying kids, and I certainly have my doubts, is good. This millionaire man goes around cheering up kids while dressed as everyone’s favorite millionaire superhero, Batman. I can safely say he’s everyone’s favorite millionaire superhero because if you like Ironman more than Batman you are not a human. Stop trying to be too cool for the room. Ironman is terrible.

ironman(Is it even necessary to give an iron suit fake abs? And why do his legs have to be a different color? Are we supposed to think he’s wearing khakis?)

I think spending money to bring smiles to soon to be dead faces is worthless when instead you can possibly make those smiles last a little longer. I am someone who values life over anything else. I understand a life might be pointless if there is no joy in it too, but you never know that for sure. The fact these kids are in a hospital means they aren’t exactly joyless Third World children who got dealt the ‘directions card’ in a game of poker. Sure, it’s great to want to make people happy, especially sick children. But how about you help make them one day have the chance to be sick and dying old people? The money could have gone toward something much more important, like a cure.

There was also the big Batkid thing in San Francisco recently. While this is cute and great for the kid, I feel it’s too self-serving for the rest of us. The kid will most likely live as his cancer is in remission which is great. However, it still feels like people got together to make him feel like Batman for us more than him. We can say we did our part by contributing to this. Helping one kid live out a fantasy is small picture thinking. The big picture is there are always going to be kids suffering and dying. Temporary happiness doesn’t feel worthwhile when misery is everywhere else.

I wrote most of this rant a few months ago and I don’t feel too strongly about it right now, as the original millionaire dressing up as Batman pissed me off. When I first saw the picture I left a comment that said I wanted to hire someone to dress up as The Joker to punch the Batman guy. Cute stories like this will always grab headlines because we love Patch Adams type people, not real scientists who actually slave away trying to find cures.

Now that the anger is out of my system, here’s something to upset the rest of you. Here’s a friendly reminder who the next Batman is–

fenway_affleck

During my time receiving cancerous rays from computer screens I have made many Internet friends. Don’t feel special WordPress bloggers, I’ve been making Internet friends ever since I was 13. I have more people willing to click “subscribe” to this blog than are willing to become friends with me on Facebook. More people will comment on this particular blog post than will spend my birthday with me. The Internet is where I seem to make all my friends these days. For a guy who carries around spare deodorant in his car I can’t be too smelly. It’s Axe too because that’s the one women murder themselves over you for.

(She smelt me once and fell in love. I turned her down. Her life is no longer worth living)

Sometimes an Internet friend becomes more like a real friend. I’ve talked to a few WordPressers outside of the blogosphere and some I consider a regular friend. Things remind me of you and I’ll even explain to police officers how a particular blog post of yours is what inspired me to light the fire. Most of us will never meet in person which is fine, it might be better that way. I do remember however one instance many years ago when I made an Internet friend who I accidentally ended up meeting years later with lackluster consequences.

When I first got the Internet I did whatever I could to find as many people I could instant message as possible. I searched AOL profiles for girls who went to the same school as me and baseball players who I could bug about nonsense. I actually did used to talk to a few baseball players online. The one I talked to a few times ended up having to retire and got a job at Old Navy. With the girls, I always kept secret who I was. If they knew it was the weird fat kid from gym class they’d insist the Internet was not a safe place to be.

(This kid is reliving my life)

I began talking to one girl who actually responded well to me. She went to a rival middle school. I don’t remember what it was specifically that made me instant message her. I think I was feeling courageous. We’ll call her Does Dallas because her real first name matches the main character in an old film about a woman who goes out and “Does Dallas.” I don’t want people to be able to figure out who she is as her privacy is very important to me.

(I changed my mind, I don’t care)

I’m not sure what we talked about exactly but Does Dallas actually would instant message me first a few times. I hid no secrets from her. I was exactly who I was in real life and she was responding well. She told me her sister got a new camera and she would send me her picture. Did Does Dallas have intentions with me I could only fantasize about? She sent me the picture and I was amazed at how attractive she was. All this really meant was I could never send her a real picture of me. Onto my computer, in search of the picture of a shirtless British kid I would send girls claiming it was me, I went.

I told Does Dallas how a classmate of hers was on my baseball team. We’ll call him At Night since his real first name is the first half of a Nickelodeon programming series taking place “At Night.” Well, a lesson was learned by me. At Night did not have kind things to say about me. Does Dallas came online and said how At Night told her about me. I asked what he said. She did not make it clear but the fact Does Dallas never spoke to me ever again does not bode well. At Night was a dweeb who asked a girl out once and when she said yes he thanked her. This was the guy who was cock-blocking me?

(“At Night” was a travesty to other men with the same first name. I won’t say it. I swear I won’t let you know what his name was)

Fast forward to high school. You don’t have to fast forward but I suggest you do to avoid the anguish in between I suffered from many other people. As rival middle schoolers do, they sometimes attend the same high school. Guess who I happened to share a graduating class with? Does Dallas, that’s who. We never had class together, but one time during a field trip she sat across from me. I wondered and still do if she remembers how she had fallen for me online. At the time she was pulling off the “hot nerd” look. I remember her wearing tight black striped pants on the bus ride to see Julius Caesar, the play not the politician. I was at my fattest and sat next to the fattest black chick in class. The two-seater was not made for two offensive lineman which is what we were voted most likely to grow up to become.

I never had a real conversation with Does Dallas. She was smart which leads me to believe she always knew exactly who I was. People always do that. They ignore any connections they used to have to you no matter how silly the circumstances were. The closest I ever came to talking to her was one night during senior year. My friend had a huge crush on her and they had planned to hangout. She cancelled. He asked his best friend to hangout. The best friend cancelled. I had nothing going on so we went out to what his best friend was REALLY up to. Parked in front of the house was Does Dallas’s car. We snuck up along the fence and my friend caught the love of his life in the hot tub with his best friend. Then her head went under water and his best friend’s eyes rolled back into his head. Use your imagination.

Long story short, thank you current Internet friends for not owning hot tubs and inviting girls I have crushes on over to your place or something like that.

We have no cure for cancer. After millions of dollars being poured into research, nothing. I don’t even know how you would go about trying to find a cure. My mind still works the way people’s did in the Civil War, cut it off if there’s a problem. But we can’t have everyone running around with cut off breasts, testicles, and brains. Still, some diseases have cures. One horrific disease, boredom, has the perfect cure. That cure is visiting an online forum.

If you’ve never visited an online forum you’re either lying or have never tried to kill yourself. The people on the suicide forums aren’t nearly as interesting as you would think. I used to peruse them late at night. I’m not exactly sure why. Plans to kill myself never got further than looking up at tall buildings thinking it would hurt really bad if I fell off. I would still recommend everyone make an account on one of these forums at some point. Either to help out some sad poet or to feel better about yourself. I’m guilty of them both.

(More poets should be like Edgar Alan Poe. He only whined about his lost Lenore. Not about how hard it is to get out of bed for a well paying job everyday)

Most large websites have forums. They allow for fans, or in most cases enemies, of the sites to express their opinions and bully 12-year-olds who post there. I believe bullying was invented to be used on forums. It’s the great place to shit talk and make someone feel like they’re subhuman. You not only get to hide behind a computer screen, you also are able to publicly showcase your insults to the rest of the members. It’s like that saying, if you calling someone retarded for having a lame opinion and there’s no one else around to see your great insult, does it hurt as badly? I’m not sure what the answer is because I might have used a double negative. Point is, online forums are a great place to make people hate themselves.

Personally I have never been bullied on a forum. It’s probably because I always forget my passwords and never log back to see the responses. The few forums I have posted on though I have always felt stupid after doing so. Fitness forums can be pretty bad. It’s a bunch of meatheads with how much weight they can move in a certain way posted under their misspelled opinions. I’m sure most of these guys are as strong as they claim to be. It’s not like most are closeted homosexuals trying to impress other men on the Internet. Why else would they post YouTube videos of them squatting shirtless in shorts? Anyway, if you hate being bullied avoid asking any question on a fitness forum. You will be met with a thousand opinions by a hundred guys who date a mirror.

There are a few terms on forums that you may need to know incase you’re thinking about signing up for one. The first is Signature Picture. These are the images used at the bottom of every post made. One time I made a “Sig Pic” on a wrestling forum. I’m like Internet famous. I’m Tub Girl only more blurry and covered in less fecal matter. There’s also the term “Moderator” which is important on forums. This lets you know which members don’t have senses of humor or real jobs.

(Every time Undertaker27 tells you about his lame opinion, you can see me in the center in front of a lime green sign with a rope going in front of my face. At least this picture confirms I am a half-inch taller than my friend)

I’ve been a moderator on two forums in my life. Both were on websites that my friend created. The first was a professional wrestling based forum which went nowhere. The second was a pornography based forum which went nowhere. Here’s a tip, don’t have a website about porn without any actual porn. It really is like that old joke of getting Playboy for the articles. So few people joined that we began to create fake accounts to encourage new people to sign up. I didn’t even know anything about pornography. All I knew to do was use names like Amber and Xilda, the standard porn names. A few Arab guys joined but never discussed anything. But really, who wants to talk about porn? What would you even say? “Did you see the rack on that one? Boy she knows how to make a man smile!” Two people who I knew joined. One had red hair and the other was a girl with thyroid problems. You’re only as good as the company you keep–

Like with anything on the Internet, things are negative. Forums are no different. People just love to be assholes online. This makes me believe that people are assholes deep down inside. Give them an anonymous nickname, an avatar of Captain America with a large erection, a lifetime of never fitting in and you have a mean Internet troll. Never post something you’re proud of online. If it ever becomes big your ego will be destroyed within 5 minutes. Yeah, people will be talking about. But you’ll be the new Rebecca Black. Nobody wants to be the new Rebecca Black. That’s too much pressure. You have to live up to being such shit.

(This face makes me hate the beginning of the weekend)

I am near black belt level of remembering the people I meet in life. Sometimes their names escape me. They will forever be known by other things like “gay kid from sports camp” or “gay kid from baseball camp.” As you can see, I went to a lot of camps and made a lot of friends with gay kids. Whether it was general sports or a more niche one, campgrounds are filled with little homos offering a trade of “show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Going through my Facebook, there are some people I have no clue who they are. Thing is, I never knew who they were. They were random people who added me. It’s different with Facebook than it was with Myspace. Myspace was about meeting new people. That’s why it was so great at first. Do I need to remind you how many girls offered themselves to me on that website? Well, 4. Half of them were underage. Still, that’s more than Facebook. Myspace was awesome because you could spy on people and they could spy on you. A random girl could be browsing, look at my profile, then think that I was awesome. Then we could talk a little more and she could realize I wasn’t that great. At least I knew where I stood. With Facebook I’m lost in the woods.

(Facebook makes me feel like the Blair Witch is after me. I have no idea what’s going on and my nose runs a little too much)

I wonder this about random Facebook friends, who the fuck are they? They usually don’t have very many friends in general. Or they have a lot. I’m not referring either to the people you have a few friends in common with. Usually these are just friend whores. Instead I’m focusing more on those completely random out of the blue can’t find any connection with individuals. They baffle me. I need to find out more.

The thing about this phenomenon, yes like the John Travolta lightning movie, is that they’re almost always men from Eastern Europe or the Middle East. Something happens on that side of the world. Maybe they’re friendlier. They’re more willing to take risks because their lives in general involve more risk. There’s that and then there’s they’re perverts. If you’re a girl and a random guy adds you, he’s a pervert. I added one random girl on Facebook ever. We were Facebook friends for 23, yes like the Jim Carrey number movie, minutes. We had two friends in common. Why did I add her? She was hot and had very large breasts. I was lonely and felt like rolling the dice. I didn’t get a chance for her to say to me “Do I know you?” and for me to reply with “Yes” and freaking her out. I have since avoided adding random people. Unless you count the cute waitress I stalked and tried to add. But I mean c’mon, she must have seen me 50 times and even said hi once. It can’t be that creepy. It’s not like I post pictures of her on my blog…

(This isn’t a picture of the girl I tried to add on Facebook randomly. She’s just some random Google Image who came up from searching waitress. I wanted for a second you to think that I really would post pictures of random people I stalk)

I did have a girl add me randomly on Facebook. Her name was Nena Fitriyani or something very similar. She was from Indonesia and always called me Mister. She deleted me after I took one of her random pictures of her singing karaoke with friends and tagged friends of mine in it. I guess Indonesian humor doesn’t involve practical jokes. It’s more about tsunamis and–what else is Indonesia even known for?

(Didn’t a man with funny hair and a bad reality TV show say Barack Obama was born in Indonesia?)

I wouldn’t mind random people adding people if they had something to say. They never do though. They add you then never do a thing. This always throws me for a loop. I hate when people try to make a connection with me and don’t say a thing. I feel like a prostitute. You’re using me as a number to boost your popularity. At least say hello or like something I posted. Otherwise you’re clearly spying on me. You only added me hoping you could find out that my life was worse than yours. The joke is on you. I don’t post enough about how much my life stinks on Facebook. It’ll remain a constant mystery for you unless you’re reading this. In that case, my life rules.

I’m now led to the idea that there are others who have at some point seen me on their friends list and thought “who is this guy?” That’s a pretty shitty feeling. I don’t add people I haven’t met in person. Unless they’re some sort of celebrity. I’ll always add a celebrity. I have this fantasy of a celebrity seeing something I posted and making me famous. Or having sex with me. But isn’t having sex with a celebrity kind of like becoming famous? Or are you just another number to boost their popularity? I will never understand a thing about the beautiful and successful people of the world.

(Malin Akerman, I don’t get you, but I love you and you are the inspiration for everything that I do. More on that to come)

What makes a random person add someone on Facebook? The only thing most people can see about another is the main picture. Was I that attractive to the Iranian guy who decided to befriend me? Does that skinny old man who added me named Romes Forel have some infatuation with my image? I guess I should take what I can get. When a random person adds you on Facebook, it’s reassurance that you look like a friendly person. At the very least, you look like someone who could easily provide them with some sick torture fantasies. Look at the random friends you have on Facebook and tell me you can’t imagine them starring in a torture porn. On the rubber end of the knife too.

I mentioned in a previous post how I had a girl turn me down for a YouTube Sensation. This is true. I had met her through friends of friends. She thought I was cool. She compared me to Bill Clinton. She said that neither of us were all that attractive, but she would still have sex with both of us. Both Smooth Willy and I were charming and captivating. We were alpha males who demanded respect. She saw this in us both. Instead she chose a boy with a video over me and a slutty president.

(“I love blow jobs.” – Bill Clinton, spokesperson for all men)

I never officially confessed my life for her. In a way, I’m glad I didn’t. It would have hurt more to be turned down for a marine who looked like Steve-O. This was a girl who sent me naked pictures on the Internet because “she wanted to know which ones looked best.” Yes, that’s exactly why. And you thought it was a shock that I believed you wanted more. I’m sorry for hugging you. I’m glad you lost your sunglasses in my car. I hope you know that the disposable camera I bought for when we hung out that one day at the beach never had the pictures developed. You hurt me so much that I threw the camera away. That felt good. Real good.

It took me a while to get over her. As you can tell, I’m still a little bitter. Mostly about myself. I know that I deserved better than that. Nobody should have to go to a diner at 3 in the morning to hear about a girl’s dreams she had last night that don’t involve you. She wanted to know my interpretation of the dream. Wow, really? Don’t you see that I’m in love with you? Of course I’m going to say that the dream means you shouldn’t get married. You stupid drug addict.

When I met this girl she already had her boyfriend. They had been dating for a few months. After knowing her for a month, she went to visit him and came back with an engagement ring. Oof! My heart sank. I still remember the day they got married. I was sitting at work wanting to kill myself or see something pop up on Yahoo about a massive plane crash into a wedding reception. I had my heart-broken, can you blame me for wanting massive amounts of innocent people to die? If you don’t understand, you’ve truly never thought that you were in love when you weren’t.

The last time I remember communicating with her was a comment on my Myspace page. It was a nice shot of me at a baseball game wearing a hat, sunglasses, a badass jacket from the Vietnam era (think Travis Bickle or Charlie from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia), looking 30-40 pounds lighter than when she has last seen me in person. She said something along the lines of “When was this taken?” I know, she might have just been curious. I like to think that she said it with regret in her life decisions. I did once tell her that I did not plan on getting married until I was 30. She joked that she’d be divorced by then. So maybe there is a chance that I can marry her then break her heart too. I totally would. I’m vindictive and evil like that.

(This picture is like 5 years old. My posture is much straighter now and I am no longer in fear of being recognized by paparazzi)

(For your viewing pleasure, a more recent photo of me back when I played with the Montreal Canadians. I seemed to be slumped back not forward now)

What hurt most was who she chose over me. Quite frankly, I’m a pretty cool guy. I’ve had attractive girls ask me for my phone number (most were sales people), I’ve had European girls ask me for my autograph (they were kind of bullied into it), I’ve had complete strangers come up to me and ask to have their picture taken with me (they probably had never seen someone so odd-looking), I’ve made promises to myself and kept them (I always put the toilet seat down), the only thing I’ve ever become addicted to is self-improvement (the downside is I cry at every little mistake), and I’m overall the most wonderful person you could ever meet. I don’t know if I actually believe it or if I’ve tricked myself into thinking it’s true. One theory I have is that I’m a very convincing actor with no real personality. I become whatever character I need to be to please whoever happens to be around me. The real me is very mean and doesn’t like to go outside much. That wouldn’t be a very coveted role for a thespian which is why I try to hide how much I hate whoever I am talking to. Sometimes it’s harder than others.

I would like to do a little comparing and contrasting between myself and YouTube Sensation who is the reason behind my anguish. He was never a huge hit online. I wasn’t dumped for Chocolate Rain or Star Wars Kid. Even dumping me for the runner of a RANDOM FEMALE BLOG!!! would be nice. That wouldn’t bother me. I’m not sure what his actual video included, but I’m sure it was nothing that Weezer would ever include in a music video.

Onto the comparing and contrasting! Finally! I will list points as to why I am better than YouTube Sensation. Why the first girl I ever thought I was in love with made a mistake and why given the chance, I would throw a rock through her windshield. If Carrie Underwood can be a crazy bitch, so can I.

(When I grow up, I want to be rich and successful and still hate the men who hurt me)

Point 1:

YouTube Sensation looked like Steve-O from Jackass. I mean he was the spitting image. Jackass hasn’t been popular in years. How’s it feel to be married to that? Someone once told me that I looked like Neil Patrick Harris. I don’t. I couldn’t look further from it. That doesn’t matter though. One person thought I did. How I Met Your Mother does very well in the ratings. Neil Patrick Harris is the big get of the show too. NPH has been popular since the 90s while Steve-O had his 15 minutes of fame getting whacked in the testicles with a hippo jaw. I win this round.

Point 2:

YouTube Sensation had a lot of views on his videos. I have never had a YouTube video get more than about 20 views. That means I don’t need a video to clarify how brilliant I am. It also means I am better at sex.

Point 3:

YouTube Sensation had gained 15 pounds since she knew him. Since she met me, I lost 40 pounds, gained 20 back, lost another 30, then gained 20 back. I’m unpredictable! While he’s married to her continuing to have his weight go up, I’m over here zigzagging every which weight with the scale. Do you want to be in a marriage where you know the exact weight of your spouse a year before it happens? You’re insane if you do!

Point 4:

YouTube Sensation was a military man. I don’t know which branch. Probably the Navy because he’s so gay (I’m allowed to make fun of him, he was a road block to happiness). I have never joined the military and probably never would. That means less of a chance of me getting shot. Nobody wants their husband to get shot. Mark this one down for me.

Point 5:

YouTube Sensation was originally from Texas. Do you know who else is from Texas? George Bush! Both of them! I’m originally from New Jersey. Do you know who else is from New Jersey? Bruce Willis. It’s simple. Bruce Willis is greater than George Bush. George Bush can send in as many troops to kill terrorists. Bruce Willis only needs one pistol and an elevator shaft.

Point 6:

YouTube Sensation was stationed in Florida. She had to move to Florida to be with him. Moving is so annoying! She wouldn’t have had to do that with me. Also, the humidity is so annoying down there. I know New Jersey has a lot of bad things about it. Do you know what we don’t ever have? Deadly hurricanes! Enjoy your deck furniture flying away bitch.

I’ll stop at 6 points. The rest is all assumption on genitalia size. I don’t remember what nationality he was, but I do remember her telling me that he could only get her off with his tongue. That’s not a real man if you ask me. A real man can get a girl off with a simple wink. Come anywhere near me and I’ll be sure to give you several.

The way I was treated is comparable to how a girl treats a gay friend. She knew I wasn’t gay and that was the problem. If there was some sort of misunderstanding then by all means, you are forgiven. Setting me up with your fat friend because we were both fat doesn’t make things good. It makes things worse.

You got married when you were 22. Now you’re like what, 26? The current life expectancy of a female in the United States is around 77 years. 77 minutes 22 equals 55. That’s 55 years of being married to him. Well, assuming he doesn’t die first. The average life expectancy of a male in the United States is around 73 years old. So that’s 51 years of marriage. You’ve been married for about 4 years already. That means you have to do this about 12 more times over. And that doesn’t include advances in medicine that will most certainly take place. Chances are, you’ll live to be around 100 or so. 80 years of the same Steve-O crap. Enjoy. You will be married to him for the rest of your life! Possibly. You’ll be together when the Cubs finally win the World Series. You’ll be together when man first takes a step on Mars. You’ll be together when the first infant is elected president. Til death do you part! (imagine me saying that in a very spooky voice)

(Mean Mark Calloway doing his signature “What’s up?” gimmick based off the old beer commercials. He has a very spooky voice)

Here’s some advice to anyone who experienced anything similar to what I have. Move on. It’s the best thing you can do. I was turned down by a girl one time and a female friend said “Why are you so upset? It’s just pussy. There’s lot of it out there.” She was right. Unnecessarily vulgar, but right. There is always someone else out there. Even finding other mates who don’t quite work out can get you out of that rut. Just knowing that you’ve “still got it” is so valuable. I went about two years still wishing things were different. Then an 18-year-old girl asked me to buy her beer. She told me I had gorgeous eyes and suddenly everything faded away. No more fear, anger, or sorrow. I had found someone new. I bought her and her friends the beer and one of them kissed me on the cheek. Her name was Wendy and that reminded me of Peter Pan. Suddenly I was grossed out and didn’t want to be around girls for a while. I got over her. So can you.