My Space

I'm afraid I wasn't entirely forthright in my dealings with Gayboi. You remember Gayboi, right? Gayboi. You'd be excused for forgetting -- it was after all back in December. Y'see, he was just disrespectful, and being a man who strictly observes all the biblical precepts unto the very jot and tittle, I answered the fool according to his folly. The post itself isn't one of my masterpieces. But I try to write something here everyday. More, it seems, recently -- using firelight to fend off the night creatures.

Here's the point. Some time last year I was playing around with MySpace, just seeing what it was. It's pretty incomprehensible to me. But I used this blog's email address to set up a test account. Well Gayboi declared war on me, and resolving to humiliate me, stumbled upon this inchoate MySpace effort. I had my little joke with him, as you might see, changing around some of the details in the site and blaming them on him. So I just now looked at ThatSpace again, and had to giggle to myself. I could have done a lot more, but you know that about me. Why bother though.

Anyway. That wasn't the point. Here's the point. I've overheard (okay, dammit, "eavesdropped on") some of my cool dude buddies referring to their MySpace activity, and consumed with overwhelming curiosity, used my mighty and unmatched intellect to correlate many disparate and subtle clues -- thus managing, as only I could, a short time ago, to figure out how to find their accounts. (My, wasn't that an excellent sentence? I'm a literary genius. Just you wait til my novel comes out. It's full of boffo sentences just like that!) Thanks, Gayboi.

Being me -- possessed of no social graces whatsoever and having a thoroughly inappropriate sense of, uh, what is, um, appropriate, I was tempted to leave a plethora of highly witty albeit alienating and disorienting comments. To do so, however, I supposed I'd have to use my one MySpace account -- the one about what a Gayboi I am. Well, I won't say that I am, and I won't say that I'm not. That's a whole other discussion, girlfriend. But you can forget that thing I said earlier about jots and tittles. More like jocks and tittie clamps! Get it?!?! Yum yum!!!

Unpopular and shunned as I am becoming, I didn't think it would be wise.

It's touching, in a way, to see what people have to say about themselves. A peek into the public private mind of someone you've come to know, even if only tangentially. Is that what this is to you? I'm just a teeny bit more detailed here than your typical MySpace comments page, but we'll feel free to validate the analogy. The half-million words I've produced here don't disqualify me from joining in on the esprit of my more socially adroit peers.

But it's an encouraging sign, eh? The fact that I didn't just go butting in and blurting out the bizarre exudations of my perfervid brain. That's "perfervid". God, learn how to spell. All that stuff I was saying before about jocks and how much I like sodomy was just kidding. I'm wacky.

So anyway, what's up with you? Hooked up with any hot boiz lately?


J