MySpace Memory Lane


Once upon a time there was an enchanted internet wonderland called MySpace. It was the big kickoff to social media before “social media” was a phrase. Needless to say, it rapidly devolved into a predator’s playground where undersexed maniacs aggressed against females via keyboard in the hope that, by sheer force of their unshakable e-will, something with a vagina would be dumb enough to type back “yes :)” to their poorly crafted solicitations for a meetup/rape/murder.

During this time, there also existed a landmark website called It’s proprietor was known for his dashing good looks, as well as his ability to effortlessly produce stool with a higher IQ than the average human being. Before ultimately closing down the site only to later resurface even better looking than before and under the new moniker of, the beautiful mind behind these internet juggernauts created a profile on MySpace under the false identity of a smoking hot, Boston-based blonde chick named “Jessica.”

As “Jessica,” the creative megaforce behind The Pictorial Guide To Wearing Johnny Cash Shirts and the Instant Idiocy Series would receive unsolicited emails from desperate e-deviants and then fuck with them. He would post the correspondence for the entertainment of his throngs of inferiors, otherwise known as his readership.

Despite the current presence of this MySpace correspondence deep in the UTB archive, the mesmeric author had not read them in years prior to linking to them in a recent post. Upon reading them as though they were new again and being wildly entertained by his own ability to harangue web-based simpletons, he decided to whip together a “Best Of” post with choice selections from the archived series, call it “MySpace Memory Lane,” and act like he’s actually posted something for the day even though re-posts and best ofs are complete fucking horseshit and he’d be the first to criticize any other asshole for doing the same.

Thus and thus, enjoy the nonsense.


“Jason” in Boston, MA says:

monday are tough but surfing myspace has it’s advantages.  Like being able to send sweet messages to what seems to be a beautiful, vibrant girl like you.  Ha, okay enough cheese.  I dig your style and would love to bore you over a great glass of wine.  Maybe at a bar trivia night or something.
What do ya think?

A bar trivia night?


Did you honestly… wait, no, ok yeah… did you honestly just invite me to a fucking bar trivia night? Good work, stinky pinky. Who the fuck invites another person, especially a total stranger from the internet, out to a fucking bar trivia night? You must have all kinds of stang just dripping off your trivia-loving dick, huh fella? Hey girls, get a load of Mr. Bar Trivia Night over here. Look out for him, ladies, he’s a handful!

Sure, Jason, let’s go to a bar trivia night. Then, you can take me back to your place where we’ll leave our inhibitions behind and engage in lustful, uncontrolled, passionate rounds of Scrabble.

I hate you.

wow I was only trying to be nice. You are really a bitch.

Am I, Jason? Am I really a bitch? I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. That was bitchy of me. Just to show you there’s no hard feelings, I will go to a bar trivia night with you. Don’t mind the gun I’ll be carrying, Jason, I mean you no harm – it’s just that suicide is the only “Plan B” I can imagine if I’m attending a bar trivia night with you.

I’m so excited for trivia now I don’t want to wait. Let’s do trivia here until we can find time to meet. I’ll go first:

What human being, currently residing in Boston, is the least likely to ever come into direct contact with a vagina because he spends his time emailing complete strangers and asking them out to BAR FUCKING TRIVIA?

(Hint: it’s you, Jason!)


“Cavalier” in Virginia says:


I figured you must be tired of cheesy “I think you’re hot” lines from strangers. So this is my way of respectfully saying hello and you have a nice profile:-) Have a great day!

you don’t know me it’s true
nor can i claim to know you
yet seeing your face as recent as i may
still compels me to send this message today

For such is the admiration your smile would inspire
that one should praise your gaze for hours and never tire
For its the smile of an angel lifting all spirits higher
or from a distance, leaves me to only humbly admire

You were right! I am SO tired of cheesy “I think you’re hot” lines from strangers. Before I opened your email, I was thinking, “Fuck, I need to get more cheesy elementary school level poems from strangers.” So, thank you. I must also say that I LOVE black men. Not only do I love black men, I love the Transformers. So after falling in love with your poetic magnificence, I went to your profile and noticed the giant Transformers background on your page. Let me get this straight… A 23 year old black man who loves the Transformers and writes poetry that wouldn’t even earn D’s in a freshman English class? Can you say “man of my dreams”???

So to return the favor, here is a poem from me to you…

Roses are red
My vagina is blue
That was until the day
I got an email from you

I read your poem
Then I flicked my bean
Then came the Transformers
And then came my cream

I’m sure that you’re hung
And wanna get in my steeze
Actually wait, you’re a black nerd…
Nigga please

well ur a skanky ugly whore with shit for brains. have a nice life bitch. ur smile looks like u just swallowed a bucket of human shit

I thought my smile inspired admiration? I thought your gaze would never tire? I’d smile if I could eat a bucket of your shit. You are a hot ebony poet. You can shit straight into my mouth if you’d like. One hot lunch, please.

Luv ‘n’ hugs,


“Jeff” in Methuen, MA says:

Who excepted whose friend request. I dont remember sending one. You’re not really good at responding to emails huh?

You’re tricky. Is this some kind of reverse-myspace-psychology? “Hmmm, maybe I’ll get her attention if I pretend I didn’t send her a friend request. Yeah, that’s the ticket!” Do I look that dumb? I mean, maybe I do. If so, please tell me. I’ll go to the library and have some pictures taken there – that way everyone will look at my page and think I’m super-smart and won’t send me any more emails trying to trick me into thinking I requested their friendship and thus owe them immediate return emails.

How about this…

Next time you reach into your bag of tricks, pull out a dictionary and/or basic grammar manual and use it to craft your email. Your first sentence SHOULD read as follows:

“Who accepted whose friend request?”

However, it ACTUALLY reads:

“Who excepted whose friend request.”

Using a period instead of a question mark is bad enough, but “excepted” instead of “accepted”??? Are you kidding me? What self-respecting 24 year old college graduate makes that mistake? Apparently, one from Methuen, who, by his own admission, is “not a big reader.” Well, Josh, reading those four words tells me all I need to know. Maybe I should rethink my exceptance of you as my friend.

You may also want to adjust your rating of my responsiveness.

Write back soon!


PS – Out of curiosity, what college admissions department excepted you?

Ok, I am having some difficulty in sending this message. There is something wrong with Myspace today. Anyway, I applologize for my grammar. That is an embarrassing mistake. I will be sure to keep my dictionary and thesaurus handy for our next conversation. I am at work and do have to act with haste when sending messages. Thank you for basing me though. I didnt remember sending it to you but apparently I got a response from you finally. I guess when you dont know someone you have to resort to email until another means of communication is used. I made this effort for a reason and cant help but see some qualities in you that are attactive. How else am I suppse to get to know a total stranger?I did graduate from UMASS Lowell and no I was not an English major. I did get my degree in Business specifically in Finance and Marketing.

applologize… attactive…

UMASS Lowell?



Nick in Shrewsbury, MA says:

hey wuts up…ur lookin beautiful in all ur pics so i was wondering if itd be aight if we culd get to know each otha a little more so halla @ me if u want thanks baby

Dude, like, if you were trying to do a satire and make fun of idiotic white kids who dress like they’re black thugs in all of your pictures, you’d be a borderline genius. Congratulations would be in order on perfecting the “skinny, pathetic, suburban white kid rocking the oversized jacket and stiff Yankees hat trying to become black by sheer force of will” look. The problem is, I can tell that you’re completely serious.

Turn off BET, pull your jeans up, pick up a book, and stop plaguing society with your assholish existence.


ooooo soo ur one of those rich prissy ass white girls that SWEAR they look better and are better than everyone else LMAO but look at it like this…your NOT even close to being a rich and famous model and guys arent attracted to ugly girls like u that think they look good and have a bad attitude so do me a favor and look in the mirror again and loosen up a little and get a real guy that wants u for ur personality and not ur looks….u dont know me and u never will so dont go running your mouth about how i dress and what i do….

a couple pieces of advice: 1.) you NOT paris hilton so stop acting like it. 2.) stop acting fake because everyone sure as hell knows that your not a blown up barbie. 3.) stop acting rich because your NOT even close. 4.) nobody likes dumb blondes that buy expensive designer clothes and think they look good in it so buy some real clothes and then see what guys really think of you 5.) dont flaunt your money because thats obviously the only reason guys talk to you(if they do) 6.) dont TRY to insult people that are most likely 100 times smarter than you are.


100 times smarter than me.

Nicky, Nicky, Nicky…

See, now what you’ve done, in all your thuggish brilliance, is expose yourself as a complete fraud. In composing your indignant response, you completely forgot to maintain the “street” persona you play off so well in your profile and came dangerously close to speaking like a normal human being. Compare the almost-proper English you used in your response to me with your magical “About Me” section, which reads:

“wutup ya’ll its ya boy into partyin, ballin and shit like that u kno what im sayin so get at the kid, shoutoutz to all my niggaz that stay tru u feel me…..”

I don’t feel you, Nicholas.

Besides this, there is no basis for anything you said to me in your response. You have no support for any of your comments. At no point in time did I come off like a “prissy ass white girl” in my response to you. All I did was point out how absurd your existence as a pasty-white pseudo-gangbanger is. When you emailed me the first time, I was “beautiful.” Then, I called you out for being a pathetic phony, and now I’m “ugly.” Get your story straight, Marshall Mathers. Guys are clearly attracted to me. I’m fucking hot. I’m well out of your league, too. Now I’m getting prissy. Homo. Would you have sent me an email expressing your admiration of my beauty if you weren’t attracted to me? Of course you wouldn’t have. You just didn’t foresee some chic not “feeling” you.

How exactly, Nick, am I acting like Paris Hilton? Is it my proper use of the English language? Is it where I talk about how much I like playing sports? Your analogy failed.

How am I acting rich, Nick? Do tell. Did I say I’m worth lots of money and not hear myself? Does my profile say I swim in pools of my own cash for leisure? Pulling things out of thin air doesn’t work on people that don’t have to wear helmets to protect their soft heads. What’s even better is that after you tell me I’m “NOT even close” to being rich, you tell me that the only reason guys talk to me is because I flaunt my money. Well, which is it, N-dawg? You can’t have your 40 and drink it too. But at least that glaring contradiction segued nicely into your proclamation that you’re 100 times smarter than me. Phat chance.

I have to say, though, that the absolute HIGHLIGHT of your stupidity is when you tell me to stop acting fake and tell me to buy real clothes shortly thereafter. Um, homie, homeskillet, homius maximus… have you looked at your pictures? You’re the original wigger. When you see skits on TV and they have white guys acting like OG’s and it’s supposed to be funny because they’re making fun of the idiots who act that way in real life… well… you’re the idiot they’re making fun of. You’re a parody of yourself. You don’t have street cred. You’re not a banger. The “Dem Franchize Boyz” video in your profile does not reflect how thug you are. Being in the “gangsta pride” MySpace group doesn’t make you a real gangsta – it makes you a real fucking jackass. And it makes me weep that you won’t see the irony in what you’ve said.

Realize something: You’re 140 pounds of snow white. All the various street poses featuring your dog tag, alcohol, your Yankees hat, and your one black friend will never make you legit. But at least you’ll still be 100 times smarter than me.

Shoutoutz to all my niggaz


“Bostonian Ken” in Revere, MA says:

Great pics. Have you ever done any promotional modeling?
I manage promotions in Boston and I’ve got something coming up. If you’re interested, email me back.

Hi there Ken! Thanks for the compliment. To answer your question, I have done promotional modeling before, only it’s never been through online solicitations. Your message strikes me as though it may be from someone who doesn’t manage promotions in Boston as much as someone who likely pretends to manage promotions in Boston as a means to lure unsuspecting females into his perverted, deadly grasp. If that’s not the case though, and you don’t plan on slitting my throat, fucking the hole, cutting me up into tiny bits and pieces, bagging me up, putting me in the trunk of your 86 Chevy Celebrity, and dumping me in the Charles River, then I’d like to hear more. You know what? Even if you do plan to kill, necro-rape, and discard me – I’m still interested. Let me know.

Ummm, thanks for the response back. It kinda freaked me out a little bit.
Anyway, I am legit. I can leave you my number or I can call you…but promise you’re not a guy pretending to be a model so you can kidnap me.

I can’t make that promise, Ken. I’m pretending to be a model – but not so I can kindap you. I only want to take you into my basement for an hour, strap a dildo to your forehead, and have my dog photograph us while I vomit all over your body. If you’d be interested, leave your number and I’ll get in touch with you.

Or, if you’d still rather me do promotional work for you, we can just go that route.

Strange. How about you leave me your number and tell me a good time to call.

So……… ‘no’ on the forehead dildo and vomit? Or was that a ‘yes’? I think it was a ‘yes’.

No” on the forehead dildo and vomit. “Yes” to you doing some promos for me. Cool?

No deal.

* * * * * * * * * *

“ChiChi” in Boston, MA (by way of China) says:

Think of You, Jesssssssss

So thrilled to hear from ya…
You make my long day short.
Whenever ya want sombody
Stand by your side,
Just take me along.

I am your Chinese boy,
Let me make you look cool so,
And so you are prettier than any soul.
Let me say as USHER sings,

“All the time I think of you
Holding on to someone new
Don’t make me lose my mind
Seems like I been here before
Baby I can’t take no more
Of you trying to play me out baby”


Cool, my first poem from a Chinaman! Thank you so much. Here’s one for you, Chichi…

Bamboo-coon, bamboo-coon
Where are you?
See the bamboo-coon
Eating crab rangoon

Noodle-nigger, noodle-nigger
Why must you eat
So many puppy dogs
In the land of Chinee

Bowl haircut, bowl haircut
Covers the head
Only bowl haircuts
For the rice packing Red


Thanks for the Bamboo Coon poem.
I wonder if you know the meaning of coon, rangoon, nigger, etc.. . I don’t know what they mean in either English or Chinese.
Can you tell me what they mean to you personally? It won’t hurt my feeling.
chic Hi

ChiChi, you are quite welcome for the Bamboo Coon poem. I worked very hard on it so I am glad that you like it. To answer your question; yes, I can tell you of their meaning. They all refer to Confucius’ great proverb:

“Never trust man who get hair cut with bowl on head.”

Confucius would say:
“Never judge people by what they wear on their head but what they have inside their head and heart.”

What would Confucius say if I inserted quarters into his eye sockets, having mistaken them for coin slots on a parking meter? I sure he rould be velllly angly.


Steve in New Hampshire says:

Hey hun, how are you? Im good here. On my day off from work and enjoying it too. I worked 6 days in a row (yikes) lol. Anyways, I found your profile and I like what I read and from the looks of your pic, youre very beautiful *kisses her hand* =). If you wanna contact me, feel free to do so. My AIM is XXX and my yahoo is XXX. I hope to talk to you soon =).

Nice neck.

Nice neck?


Thanks? Yes?

Nope. Your neck is fucking gross. Why would you kiss my hand? That would be fucked out in person, but you pretend kissed my hand on the internet. That really ups the fuckedness. And you topped that off with a smiley face, which, aside from the unmitigated gayness inherent in such an act, in real life it means your weird neck would be shifting all around and stuff. That’s not good, Steve. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. I don’t wanna lose my hand in the creases.

Im sorry. You dont have to contact me if you dont like to.

Holy christ Steve, you legitimately bum me out with your lack of testicular will. Let your balls descend, dude. I’m a bitch you don’t know on the internet who made fun of your horrific looking neck. And YOU apologized to ME? Tell me to fuck off, man. Wish rape upon me. Tap in to your scrotum occasionally, there, Steve. You’ll like the way it feels. You’ll also notice sudden decreases in unnecessary apologies, the usage of phrases such as “yikes” and “lol,” and fucking smiley faces. I can’t promise it’ll help with your neck, though.


“Mr. Nice Guy” in Lexington, MA says:

i just got through reading your file and just HAD to say hello but i see it be very strange to meet girls on this thing but you diffenly had cought my eye and now i know why, its Bcuz your the sexyest girl alive. no but really i just thought that mybe even though i’m a little oldier than you, thought mybe see if u would give me a try. but dont leave me hanging, because we might just get aong, hit me back so we can chat, LATER

italian staillion out !!!!!!!!!!

Before I respond to anything in your email, I have to know if English is your primary language or not. If it is, then what you sent is entirely unacceptable and I can’t imagine any circumstance under which I would ever communicate with you again. I feel like I’ve gotten ‘oldier’ from just reading your message.

English Speaking Jessica out!

wel i’m sorry that my online grammar is not up to par with my 8 grade english teacher, but what do you care it only took you to months to respond. so i dont know whats worse you not liking the poem i wrote for you or you not responding because i misspelled a couple of words. well i’m sorry for what i’m not sure but if you can’t take a complement then begone.  ITS FUCKING MYSPACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1. What poem? Unless you consider that shit-pile of mix-n-matched letters you emailed me to be poetry, which, even by your room temperature IQ standards seems unlikely, then you never sent a poem. I would blow whomever I had to for a chance to read your poetic masterwork, though.

2. Conservatively, you misspelled nine words in your original email. That’s discounting capitalization and punctuation errors, which, if included, would bring your total to twenty. Improper usage is a whole other issue that I’ll refrain from addressing here. For the record, your second attempt at communication via English contains sixteen errors.

3. Your shift / exclamation keys are jammed. Look into fixing that.

4. “begone”? BEGONE? BE-fucking-GONE?

5. You realize you used the word “begone,” right? You’ve voluntarily come into contact with penises, haven’t you?

FUCK YOU BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Congratulations on your first technically error-free email. You’ve won me over.

3 Responses to “MySpace Memory Lane”

  • Matt

    Is Myspace still around? If you sign up, is it the internet equivalent of Journey to the Center of the Earth? Do MySpace wiggers walk amongst dancing babies and glittery “Happy Birthday” GIFs, spitting internet game at fake profiles in a land that time forgot? We may never know.

  • baz

    This is in poor taste, there is no sport to be found here. You’re shooting fish in a barrel.

  • Unleash The Beef

    If you come upon a barrel of fish and don’t shoot, you’re an idiot. Maximize reward while minimizing effort. The nature of all living things.

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