MySpace Nincompoopery

Before we get started with tonight's blog, I'd like you to notice my little friend directly above and to the left of this text. I'm not sure why MySpace has employed Sloth from 'The Goonies' to give a visual representation of my every emotional whim, but he's been steadfast for eight months now. He's never wanted a pay raise, never incorporated his bias on the blog topics, nor has he ever asked for a Baby Ruth.

This blog is dedicated to my mascot, Sloth. Good on ya.

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On the eve of my 50th blog, I've decided to delve into what this MySpace website means to me (and perhaps to the other 55.8 million MySpace users out there).
I know of at least six people in my life floating somewhere on the periphery of MySpace reading this blog right now. They have a profile, but don't want anyone to know that they're using the person-to-person socializing website.
They just wanna stalk.
Stalking is a genuine American activity now. Ten years ago, stalking had maniacal connotations, dangerous socio-pathological connotations. Now stalking is a laughable time-waster. It's accepted. Ten years ago I would never have been sitting here in my basement, huddled over my keyboard, sipping a diet Tab, confessing that I enjoy watching people from a safe cyberspace.
That's right, I said it; I like watching you.
I like reading your blogs, and perusing your captioned profile pictures. I enjoy noting whether you are still single or if someone out there loves ya. I get frustrated when, after three months, you don't change your profile information and I enjoy going through the trouble of connecting the comments posted on your page with the comments that you've posted on other friends' pages. I judge your profile song and take note when and if you post pictures of yourself with cute friends that you barely see, just to make yourself look as if you hang out with attractive people all the time (you know who you are).
If I've dated you, thought about dating you, wondered if you were single, wondered where you work, wondered if you knew that girl you were talking to in the bar last night, wondered how you got so many more friends than me, wondered where your buddy's band is playing in three days, wondered how tall you are, wondered what your actual job title is, or guiltily forgot what school you were enrolled in… trust me, I've looked at your profile.
That being said, in the future, if you question me about my on-line behavior, I'll deny I've ever heard of this damn site, and then pour the contents of whatever beverage I'm holding onto your lap to ensure the conversation comes to a hurried commencement.

Why am I confessing all this? Why am I purposely creeping my reader's out? Because none of it really matters. I haven't been "Adam" on MySpace for a single day in the 12 months I've included myself in this cultural phenomenon. I've been "Turtle", "Shockingly Caucasian", "Squirt", "Up-And-Atom", "Duke, "Ace", "Captain Awesome", "Part-Man, Part-Amazing", and "Testarossa", but never once have I displayed myself as Adam.
Why? Because Adam is boring. And MySpace would also be boring if it weren't 91 percent lies.
If everyone told the truth on MySpace, all the studs would have their shirts on in pictures, and on-line scam artists pretending to be airbrushed hot girls would stop sending me messages claiming, "I think UR hotttttt. cum visit my web cam at www.predatorytrickery.com". Without a weird fake world of online friendship none of us could honestly claim to be friends with Dane Cook, Lonelygirl15, or three-million ultra-hip bands playing a concert somewhere in Oregon next month.*

But I digress.

The point is, MySpace isn't awesome because it allows people to connect with friends from all over the world via video, pictures and comments. That's what "Tom" would have you believe, but that's not why it's awesome. MySpace is awesome because it's just a year-round Halloween party. Dress up how you want, tell people you are whatever version of yourself you think is the best.
If you've got a picture of some underwear model kissing your cheek, upload it for the world to see.
If you're the biggest Chamillionaire fan in the world, better add one of his songs to your profile so that it's introductory six chords annoy your friends each time they come to your site.
Like talented emo bands and Jesus Christ; reality on MySpace simply doesn't exist. It's all just wishful thinking...
...I was kidding with that last comment; I'm sure there are a few talented emo bands.

Am I against MySpace? Heckie-naw. Perusing all you goofballs on this site is better than televison. Well, all television except for:

Grey's Anatomy, Lost, The Gilmore Girls, CSI, The NBC Nightly News, The ABC Nightly News, The CBS Nightly News, The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, The Office (both versions), Survivor, The Sopranos, Deadwood, ER, Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Criminal Intent, The Simpsons, Family Guy, Sportscenter, G.I. Joe, Pardon The Interruption, 60 Minutes, Around the Horn, My Name Is Earl, Sex & The City Reruns, Muppet Babies reruns, The Wire, The Real World, Laguna Beach, Punk'd, I Love Lucy reruns, Homicide: Life On the Street reruns, TRL, Seinfeld reruns, Oz reruns, Entourage, Baseball Tonight, Entertainment Tonight, SouthPark, The Chappelle Show reruns, The Flintstones reruns, Baseball, football, basketball, college football, college basketball, The Oscars, Lucky Louie, Da Ali G Show, Friends reruns, Tourgasm, Warner Brothers Cartoons, Who's Line Is It Anyway?, CNN, I Love the 80's, various E! Top 100 lists, America's Next Top Model, Conan O'Brien, Letterman, Project Runway, 30 Rock, and Flav-or of Love…

…other than that, there's no better way I can think to spend my time.

Make sure to tip Sloth on your way out of the theater.
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* For a solid eight minutes I had a comment right at the top of Ben Kweller's music page telling him how deeply his music makes me feel. For those eight minutes I was Mr. Kweller's best friend in life.
My comment was tops. It was above everyone else's.
Then that skank MoretroublethanUknow22 made a big long comment post and usurped my position.