Will you be my friend?

Friendster is the biggest joke on the planet. Literally.

When it comes down to it, how much does your shit life really have to suck for you to hang your hat on such a place? Jesus. Just logging in there makes my skin crawl and my ass pucker up. Yeah, hang on, lemme explain…I have an account there ’cause a friend invited me to join with the plea “I don’t have anyone on my Friendster list yet and I feel like a loser!” So. Being the nice gal that I am, I signed up, and have regretted it ever since.

First off…lemme tell you, their site must be running on a fucking 486. It takes 9 months for a page to load, by which time you no longer have any friends to list because they’ve all given up hope that you’ll ever emerge from your room again, so it’s probably good that you’re networking like a motherfucker on this anti-social social website. This isn’t just a one-time thing, people. I have experienced it on several different computers in several different places. It’s their shittyass cheap ghetto servers. They should be wholly ashamed of themselves.

Secondly…as I log into my Friendster account at this moment (I actually began the login process last May), it says I have like 180,000 friends. I love the logic of how this works. Like suddenly people who don’t even know each other in any way, shape, or form, would somehow deem themselves to be your friend simply because you both know someone who knows someone. I sure as hell wouldn’t consider 179,999 of them to be my friends in any way. Who the hell are they? And why aren’t they sending me birthday cards every year?

I think Friendster primarily exists to propagate the “I’m a social pariah and can’t get live people to talk to me so my psychiatrist suggests I try being pals with people who hide behind the safe curtain of a 4yr old pic that shows them when they were skinny and sporting a better hairdo” mindset. The logic of this setup has escaped me repeatedly. Who the fuck wants to make romantic hookups with a guy from Elk Snout, MN anyhow?

Now, I’m all for fun on the internet. There is a bevvy of awesome things to do online that have never been ultimately possible in real life. (Watch my eyes flash and my fingers fly as I check out all the new tests on *e-mode*!) But come on, how retarded do we really need to get? Okay, fine, if you want to spend your hours waiting for pages to load so you can stare at pictures of “friends” who are friends with people who are friends of your friend Bobbie Sue, then knock yourselves right out. Have at it. It’s aaaaaaall yours.

But the rest of us would like to get on with our semi-intelligent lives and not hear the word “Friendster” escape from your mealy-mouthed head anymore…and stop asking us for testimonials because why the hell would we want to drop that pile of smelly gooseshit to bolster your ego when in actuality we’re cussing your name for guilting us into signing up for the damn site thus opening ourselves to a whole new realm of “Goth mentality” antagonism!

Whatever happened to instant messengers and chat rooms? Ahhhh…the good ol’ days…