myspace

Everyone is named Kaylee or Ashleigh or Abilene or Tadra or Shammara or Beckye or Lynzie or Rayline or Sharmi. Almost all of them are less than 25 years old. There are a lot of trucker hats. I think I saw the word “chillaxin'” again. Everyone is down for whatever.

It’s as though Viacom had bombed Orange County with Nu Metal Stupid Gas.

Where is my beautiful, brainy, poised, creative, fascinating 30-something princess?

Answer? She married a mortgage broker in 1998.

Oh, show me the way to the next little girl
Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why
Show me the way to the next little girl
Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why

For if we don’t find the next little girl
I tell you we must die, I tell you we must die
I tell you, I tell you, I tell you we must die

Oh, moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We’ve lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey, oh, you know why

7 thoughts on “myspace

  1. if it makes you feel any better, the guys are all fucking retarded. there are maybe three different versions of “guy” on myspace. a) flexing muscles guy, b) guy sitting on his car, or just a picture of the car, c) guy and his awful haircut that hides half his face and looks like he got his ass kicked by a really temperamental flowbee but he thinks it looks really cool.

      1. i am totally obsessed with it
        i don’t know. my favorite car is like a 1986 volvo stationwagon. none of the cars are that, to be sure.

  2. She married a mortgage broker in 1998.

    If it makes you feel any better, in 2000 the mortgage broker became broker yet when she got the house and he kept the mortgage. Even if it doesn’t make you feel any better, most likely it happened anyway.

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