Posts Tagged ‘myspace’

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Facebook’s privacy settings are so strong that I originally made my account to help a friend stalk his ex-girlfriend to see what she was up to.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.

Have you ever had someone tell you that a song reminded them of you? I think it only happened once for me. At least once that is worthy of writing about. I’m sure I remind lots of people about lots of songs. It’s amazing the things I will see or hear that remind me of other people. Every time I see a pork sandwich I think of this one girl I know who likes anal. Luckily I hardly ever see pork sandwiches. Even better, I hardly ever see Rachel “Backdoor” Rodriguez. She can no longer stand up straight anymore and it’s creepy.

The girl who told me I reminded her of two different songs was a lady who defined how much more wonderful MySpace was copmared to Facebook. Whenever I friend request random girls on Facebook they ask me who I am and I have to tell them I’m just a guy who thought she had nice breasts. Back on MySpace though, girls would actually add me to their friend’s list. I know I haven’t gone downhill from there because I’m thinner, sharper in the face, and a lot sassier than ever before. So why don’t wonderful things like this happen to me anymore?

sassy pants haley

(I was trying to find a picture of pants that said “sassy” on them but instead saw that Haley Joel Osmont has lost his dignity)

I forget how she found me but she did. She was the sister of one of my friend’s neighbor. So we were pretty much twins. I actually never ended up meeting her in person despite the fact we probably talked a lot online for close to two years. She didn’t live far away at all and we did have mutual associates. There was one factor that made me hesitant to ever actually hangout, I was almost 18 and she was in 8th grade.

Let’s pause for a moment before you start to think this is some sick pedophile story. Like I said, we never met. We never even talked dirty or anything like that. I’m being completely honest here too. The only time sex was even brought up was when I posted a MySpace bulletin (remember those?) asking if anyone wanted to blow me, you know, just to see what people’s opinions on the topic were. It was a school assignment. I got two messages. One was from a Goth girl in Massachusetts. The other was someone who would have gotten me locked up in prison.


(The Goth girl from Massachusetts pictured on the left)

My relationship with this girl was a very strange one. She would come to me for brotherly advice even though she had a brother only a year younger than me who could have done the same. I would help her out because she was a sweet girl and I guess we were actually friends. If anything she was the person who sexually harassed me. She posted “hey you’re hot” on my MySpace for everyone to see. Then her friend who ended up getting an abortion in 9th grade did the same thing. My girlfriend at the time saw and threatened to kill them both. The two younger girls were popular, attractive, and completely off-limits. This was some kind of sick joke. I was almost legally allowed to vote now and finally girls were noticing me years too late. I thought about cutting off my testicles. It made sense at the time.

Over time the girl started liking me more and more. She trusted me a whole bunch and would ask me to interpret songs for her because I was the smartest person she knew. What happened to me? I’m not the smartest person anyone knows. In exchange for interpreting lyrics, this young lady told me two songs that made her think about me.

The first song I reminded this girl of was “Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day. I asked her why this song made her think of me. She had no clue. The second song I reminded her of was a song created when Satan farted onto a dead orphan, “Photograph” by Nickelback.

What. The. Fuck.

Here I was, being incredibly nice and helpful and she was saying I was the equivalent to not only a Nickelback song but to THE Nickelback song. The worst one they have. The one where they talk about a piece of shit on Joey’s head. I was hurt.

Slowly we drifted apart as she got into high school and became more popular while I graduated and became the nothing I am today. We stopped talking sometime around the end of my senior year when she said her brother found out who I was then reported back to her. We stopped talking after this. Our creepy friendship did not ended with a bang, but a whimper. And by whimper I mean I cried in my bedroom for days.

sassy pants smoothie

(Then I made a brown smoothie and I felt better)

I’m not sure what her brother said, but it was not favorable I’m sure. If you have been reading me for a while, which you better have been, you may remember a similar story. I guess this is what they mean about history repeating itself. You can read about the other story here  then come to the same determination I have, 8th grade girls are shallow bitches who lack the ability to relate the proper songs to my personality.

So if you never have heard them, here are the songs that apparently defined who I was when I was 17.



Is there a song that reminds you of me? Is there a song that other people say reminds you of them?

I remember seeing someone on Myspace years ago post that one day they were going to be on Saturday Night Live. He assured everyone willing to read his rant, his hopes, his dreams, that one day he would be a success. This Myspace character was named Jimmy Fallon. You can only imagine how pissed off he was when he found out that there was already a popular cast member of the same name. Myspace Jimmy Fallon quit his dreams and nobody ever saw him again. Myspace Jimmy Fallon was delusional. One of my favorite types of people. The ones who think they’re not going to fail like the rest of us.

I worry at times that I am delusional. I worry that I’m really a retarded man. Each time someone pays me a compliment it’s because they feel sorry for me. I knew a retarded person. We’ll call him Retarded Jimmy Fallon because I feel like continuing to make up the fact that I actually knew other people with that name. People would go up to Retarded Jimmy Fallon and tell him how cool he was. They’d say his Cowboys Starter Jacket was awesome. I don’t know if what they were doing was wrong or not. RJF wasn’t very cool at all. He’d yell out nonsense and make disgusting noises. His Cowboys Starter Jacket, it had a paint stain on it. That’s not how I define awesome. Did they help feed the flame of delusional thoughts into RJF?

(He does have the death stare of a retard)

Nearly every day I come across someone delusional in some way, shape, or form. The most common are people who think they’re interesting, funny, or smart. You’re lucky if you get one of them. Most people are pretty boring, lame, and dumb. They’ll talk about themselves and people they know and who I have never met. I don’t care about what your ugly cousin did in a kayak. Unless it was her tipping over and getting her foot caught on seaweed at the bottom of the lake, shut up. Terribly unfunny people are the worst. You can easily spot these people by their novelty t-shirts and special skills in quoting things from the Cartoon Network. Don’t get me wrong. A few novelty shirts is fine. And to throw out a funny line here and there from a talking milkshake, priceless! But that doesn’t make you funny. That makes you a purchaser of good shirts and an idiot savant. As far as smarts goes, we all know lots of dummies. People who ask the worst questions possibly. “How are you?” is the most common dumb question asked of me. I’m awful. You’re near me and the only one I have to interact with at the time. That’s how I am.

(What to get for the dad who fixes everything? A shirt to remind him that he does all the work while his fat children run up the electric bill)

Delusions become a big problem in life when you just don’t know when to quit. Striving for your dreams is always great. But by golly eventually you need to stop wasting people’s time with what you call talent and do something more productive like make an equally untalented child or light yourself on fire. There’s no real set time frame when you should give up and settle for a bad life. You probably should never give up because most of all you’re wasting your own time. And that’s not my time, the time I care about most of all.

People are delusional about the way they look a lot of times too. Go to a Walmart, Ihop, or any other place that exists for further details on girls who think they’re attractive and are not. Worse than girls with orange skin and purple lips are the alternatives. People who try too hard to be antisocial. I saw a guy wearing a cape thing while walking the other day. A long, black, covered in chains and whistles cloak. I’ve seen this outfit a lot. One time it was a guy at a flea market selling swords talking about kung fu movies. Why is it that people work so hard to look so different? It feels very dishonest to me. To dye your hair a thousand different colors, pierce every orifice of your body, cover yourself in ink, and wear clothes that look like they belong on Mongolian soldiers is insane. Yes. These “alternative” girls are pretty hot a lot of the time. But their attitudes leave a lot to be desired. They’re mean, self-centered, and complain that people aren’t open minded. You look like a woman who should be operating a Ferris Wheel and dating the World’s Strongest Midget. Excuse me if it takes a little bit of time to understand you’re not a sexy mutant.

(I swear I could accidentally eat him)

As much as I think delusional people should be rounded up and tossed into the ocean, the same can be said of the opposite. People who settle too early. They take corporate jobs without really caring if that’s what they waste their life with. If you’re into reincarnation sure, that’s fine. You’re more worried about not coming back in the next life as a cup of yogurt or something else edible. Some people don’t seem concerned at all about where their life takes them. That scares me. To think I’d ever be fine with an average job, in an average town, with an average wife, with average kids makes me want to scream. I’d go out every week with the same people from high school. We’d laugh about old times. Then we’d run out of old times to laugh about and one of us will kill ourselves. Settling with the same group of people in your life for eternity means that you guys will forever be attached at the hip. Make friends somewhere else. You only liked each other in the first place because you both had Mr. Finkleshit for science. Mr. Finkleshit is dead now and you two are still friends. Where has the time gone?

(Mr. Finkleshit survived the Holocaust but he couldn’t survive his 3rd period biology class. They murdered him by all forgetting to do their homework. He was heartbroken)

It’s impossible to tell if you’re a delusional person or not. That’s the thing, you don’t know. You never will. Maybe years from now on your death raft (I’m predicting massive flooding to kill most of the current population) you’ll look back at these years and think you wasted your time on an impossibility. You will wonder how you could have been so delusional. If you’re going to be ignorant though at least be ignorant trying to achieve something great. Don’t be one of those blissful idiots who are happy enough just to have a job that allows you to drink water bottles are your desk. That’s not called “not appreciating life.” That’s called being a doormat of society.