Get in my In-Box, You Sluts of Myspace

It might just be me, but I miss Myspace. I miss the anonymity of stalking or being stalked without having your current mood displayed for an entire social networking site to see.

I miss Myspace’s clean and sleek bulletin board, uncluttered with bullshit applications. I’m gonna say right now, I don’t give a rat’s arse about tending your garden, playing Scrabulous, or poking you. In fact, poking kind of hurts, so don’t bother to poke me back.

I’m especially depressed by seeing photo after photo of babies, and pregnant friends. I’m in my twenties for godssake, and I live in Los Angeles, land of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Keep your engagement rings on your fingers, and put your ugly babies up for adoption. You are totally harshing my social networking mojo.

Last night I got totally nostalgic. I got two friend requests from two totally hot sluts: Carisssa and Heidi. Both sent me pleasant messages, imploring me to be their friends. Heidi told me how lonely she is, and wouldn’t it be nice if I could be friends with her and her nudie pictures? Carissa was a little more blatant. She asked me if I like big tits.

Now, I’m a straight female, but let’s be honest here, who doesn’t love big tits? So I did something I haven’t done in weeks. I signed onto Myspace. It’s simple white and blue background put a twinkle in my eye. I noticed my favorite indie band was coming to town, and someone needed to get rid of a kitten. I’ve missed so much!

Then I did something I’ve actually never done. I approved my two new slut friends. I didn’t even have to ask them how we knew each other, or tag which school we both attended. With just one click I instantly had two new hot friends who won’t hold it against me that I’m not giving them gifts, or completing their compatibility tests.

These girls are nice and simple. I can look at their giant tits, and the only garden I have to tend is my own. I miss you Myspace.