Social Networkin'

The FooDaddy has officially joined the 21st century. He had to, you see, in order to spread his insidious propaganda more efficiently. World domination doesn't come easy these days. You need to know at least a few HTML tags, for one. Italics. Bold. Even such advanced ideas as bold italics.

Now that I'm done showing off my Internet prowess, lemme 'splain. I'm now featured on both MyFace and Spacebook. I can link to the MyFace profile (see how blue them last couple words is?) but the Spacebook one is a little more private. This allows your identity to be stolen only by those who know how to circumvent this privacy. Makes me feel better.

MyFace? Geez. I've never seen so many animated ads on one page before. There's enough of them to actually budge my laptop's processor out of its clocked-down state and run my batteries down faster.

I'm sure you're familiar with the "Poke the rabbits and get a free iPod" type ad. They're like crappy little games you can play if you're a loser! Yay! The ones that are new to me, outside of Hotmail that is, are the ones for the dating site "Trūe". There's a macron over the "u" for some reason, as if we needed help pronouncing it. If that were the case, then you're probably too stupid to be getting anywhere near the other sex for fear that you might reprodūce.

Then again, if you're stūpid enough, even that might be beyond yoū.

I don't know if the Trūe ads are gender-specific, because if they're not, they're aiming pūrely for the male/lesbian crowd. The frames are dominated by a quasi-hooker in a dress made out of the same fabric bike shorts are, but smaller. One of them is Flash animated, and rams her buttocks into the edge of her frame every time you caress her with your mouse pointer.

This is creepy.

So for months now, I've been railing against these social networking sites, ridiculing them for the shallow and ad-infested shadows of friendships that they are.

"Do you have a Spacebook profile?" a well-meaning friend would ask.

"No," I would say, and attempt a high-speed shuffle in another direction.

"You should get one!" they'd say.

"I don't have rabies either, but that's no reason to go sign up for it," I'd snort.

"On second thought, you might want to keep that attitude of yours quarantined," they'd say, tightening the straps on my straitjacket.

"I'm not crazy. It's the resta ya," I'd say. "Gimme a lollipop, and I'll lay still."

It went something like that, until I finally caved in and entered the future of networking kicking and screaming. I figure if I dilute it with enough sarcasm and goofy pictures, I'll be able to have it both ways: I can succumb to peer pressure and be aloof.

Yay internet!