LanceSpace
March 17, 2005 | 1:33 pm | Internerd | 0
I met Lance last night for dinner at Niko Niko. The place was packed at 6:30 p.m., when we met, and we both had to park on the street around the corner AND sit outside in the cruel and very un-Houston like 45-degree weather.
Just yesterday I was reading an article about how Yahoo! plans to create some wonder-software that combines both blogging and social networking. I usually read any story I can find about blogging, the future of blogging, how blogging is so passé, mommy blogs, daddy blogs, baby blogs, home improvement blogs, political blogs. So far they have not yet created a category for 20-something pseudo-feminists who are about to move to demilitarized zones blogs, thankfully.
Yes, I blog, but one thing I don’t do is social networking. Uhg, I even hate the way that sounds. I mean, look at my blogroll — six names. I prefer real-life friends, thankyouverymuch.
First there was Friendster. I remember reading a story one year ago in Rolling Stone about Freindster and how it was going to “change the face of the Internet.” Umm, okay, where is it now?
Now there is MySpace, and two of my friends, god love ‘em, are OBSESSED WITH THIS THING. It doesn’t hurt that they are both in their 30s and are routinely meeting jailbait through the Interwebs.
At dinner, Lance was telling me about all the fake profiles he’s created on MySpace. He’s been operating under the guise of Osama Bin Ladin for several months now — which is actually really funny — and he recently created a profile for a “average guy” named Gene, who likes to hang out at Home Depot and eat at The Outback Steakhouse. In just a few days, “Gene” has received tons of requests to befriend teenage girls. “Gene” and “Osama” are also on each other’s buddy lists, and Lance routinely amuses himself by going back and forth between his many MySpace characters, trying to see who gets the best reaction. Recently, a woman named “Miss Raven” who is obsessed with serial killers joined his buddy network.
“I’m becoming tangled in a web of my own lies,” he said to me at dinner last night.
After we left the restaurant, we walked out to our cars which were parked on a public street right beside the building, and when I got to my door, there were two pink Post-it notes on my window.
“PLEASE DON”T PARK…
IN MY DRIVEWAY!”
“What!?” I said to Lance. “I’m not parked in anyone’s driveway!”
I was, however, parked RIGHT NEXT to a driveway that had a small truck parked in it. A truck with a Phish sticker on it, nonetheless. The truck hadn’t been there before, so the driver obviously had plenty of room to pull in while I was in the restaurant.
“I’m gonna write them a note,” I said. So I got my pen out of my purse and scrawled on it, “It’s not a driveway — it’s a public street!”
As I walked up to the truck to slap the note back on their window, Lance said. “Whoa! I’m getting out of here. Someone’s going to pull a shotgun out on you. Let me know if you get killed!”
This coming from someone with a MySpace profile for Osama Bin Ladin.