I signed up to MySpace
As a mate sent me a link to his page and it transpired I couldn't actually read anything on it unless I joined. So I did, but didn't put a profile on, or any information at all.

Imagine my surprise then, when I find myself being constantly bombarded with messages from hot women inviting me to be their friend. Or even, skip the friend bit, and for me to just fuck them six ways to Sunday. I am, apparently, their dream man, and they haven't even seen a picture of me.

All I can surmise is that there's a certain air of mystery about me that turns them on... because, as I mentioned, there is absolutely fuck all on my profile.

I really must delete it.

Erm, that didn't really answer the question, did it? OK, I replied to one, paid the air fare to Vegas, got there, and the hot young lady with no clothes on in the message turned out to be a saggy 70 year old with one tooth and a false leg. Fortunately when we met she decided I wasn't her type and I flew back to Blighty in time for tea and crumpets.

That'll learn me, eh? And her, for mistaking a 'can't be arsed to put a profile on MySpace' attitude as an attempt to conjure up an air of mystery.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 12 Sep 2008, 13:10, 1 reply)

nice story


A few years back, I was on Myspace. Now, as you all know Myspace is just a website where people just add you as a friend no matter what. People / Bands just add you for no apparent reason. I got the feeling, it was actually done via an application of some sort (one of the reasons I joined facebook) any way I digress.

One day I got an friend invite request, as usual I check out their profile, and I was surprised – it was a girl and she was quite pretty, and the Myspace page was quite ‘normal’. Lets call her Michelle (for that’s her name). Anyway, I accepted the friend request, and as a test to make sure she was ‘a real friend’ struck up a conversation with her. Over a few mails we discussed background. This went on for a few weeks. Followed by flirting, and more flirting. It was great. I looked forward to checking my email each night.

We never exchanged phone numbers, as it felt more natural on Myspace (as that’s where we met).

It turned out she was quite clever, she already had been a high level Techy in numerous Call centres and back office companys. Working on the internal comms infrastructure etc. She said she ‘been there done it all’ and wanted a new career. As there was a housing boom on at the time, she decided to set up her own building company, I doubted her at first. She sent me some sketches of her first building designs, they were very distinct in their style/design, but she was adamant they looked good; she defended her design choice saying it was her style or ‘Michelles style’ as she always put it (she like to use 2nd person description). She also mentioned she was going to incorporate her IT skills within each house, giving each house a modern feel.

However after a few months we started to drift apart as the excitement died down, less emails were sent. I reckoned it was down to her business. She must have been so busy.

Then one day (about Jan 07) I received an email out the blue.

She had setup her company, built the houses and setup a website for me to see what she done:

Want to see what they looked like??

edit:*punnage alert*
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 13:07, 2 replies)

I was one of the first to ever sign up for Facebook.

I didn’t think it would catch on…so didn’t think twice about posting my hobbies as ‘Bingo, blow-jobs and bum-rape (giving or receiving)’

Then it went mega-global.

Blimey, are my cheeks red!


from all the bum-rape, NOT the embarrassment
(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:57, 1 reply)

i am shit with computers
and only really use b3ta and google. although i am on facebook i hardly ever use it.

so the closest i have got to anything of this sort would be the GODDAM AWFUL PHOTOS THAT PEOPLE KEEP TAGGING ON FACEBOOK after a night out. STOP IT. STOP IT.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:53, 2 replies)

I totally forgot you can socal network in the real world
I'm rather claustrophobic, so I try my best to frequent quiet, friendly pubs rather than the heaving gel-head ones. However one night I was dragged to one on the threat of being dumped otherwise. When I am in crowds I do get very short tempered and angry, and being quite tall I really don't enjoy people's handbags and elbows making friends with my anus. Anyway, some utter pillock came walking my way and knocked me flying.

"You absolute tossbag. Are you fucking blind?"

And then I see the cane.
(GONEism, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:47, Reply)

.. a social networking site? A pub, in other words?
.. yes, I have made plenty of grave mistakes in pubs back in those days. I reckon that I have forgotten a fair deal. As for the mistakes that I *do* remember, I pretend to have forgotten them.

Beer. Great solver of problems.
(spinoza, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:41, Reply)

Is it just me,
or is Tom everyones friend on Myspace?
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:35, 6 replies)

Applications
My god, why do people send these to me? I must have blocked every single one and clicked 'ignore all invites from this sender' yet I still get them every now and then...

It's not real. I don't give a fuck. What the piss do most of them even mean?!

I don't want to join your pirate/zombies/jedi/loser fight, I don't care how much like *insert z-list celebrity* I am, I couldn't give a flying fuck if some ridiculous random generator thinks i'm hot/likeable/funny/boring, I would rather stick my own kneecaps into my eyes than find out my "sex IQ" etc etc etc...

My 'blocked applications' list:

EDIT: See replies for list, it was far too long!
(gin'll fix it, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:35, 2 replies)

Emil Minty
Online social networking gaffes be fucked. I can cock things up in the old fashioned way.

One of my worst was when I had a paper published in a reasonably respected journal and was invited to present at an international conference. I was young, this was the first academic paper I had ever written (beyond assignments), and it was, to be honest, a buzz. I was very nervous leading up to the event. I was due to present in the late afternoon and I had a sleepless night and a very uncomfortable day. I may have vomited, but that could be a false memory. I was shitting myself though. Anyway, my time came to present, I got up, I spoke well, I fielded the questions, I sat down. And once that was over I was on cloud nine. Teh win!1! I felt fucking great.

It was quite a ‘big deal’ this conference and that evening there was a harbour cruise for 150 or so dignitaries. As I was a presenter I got an invite. On the boat I quaffed a few happy juices and chatted and had a few more. I was on a huge natural high and in addition the tins were sliding down well. After a while I needed to empty my bladder so I made my way to the loo. As I was moving through the obstacles the Dean of my school, the highly respected person who had very recently secured a scholarship for me to do my Ph.D., caught my arm and manoeuvred me to his table. Seated at the table were half a dozen males and females I didn’t know, but they were obviously the Gods in this environment. The Dean presents me to this group and mentions my paper and lecture/speech. Nods all round. Then the Dean says what no person should say when introducing a nervous young man to a group of his significant betters... ‘Mime will know a good joke for us’.

Evidently these folk had been telling yarns and enjoying themselves, and now the pressure was on for me to amuse them. I hate that at the best of times, but it is dangerous when someone is half full of beer, half full of natural high, and young, naive and way out of their depth. Personally, I’m just not built to cope. I tried to do the right thing with ‘I can’t think of one’ but that was met with pretend jeers and mild scorn from this small group of folk who dream in algebra and invent new letters for the alphabet. So I feebly admitted that I did know one joke, but it wasn’t appropriate. It was my favourite joke at the time, and honestly it was the only joke I could think of. This small group, all well at the sunset of their esteemed careers, and probably (from the vantage point of many years of reflection) slightly tiddly, insisted I share it. In my defence I did say I didn’t want to tell any jokes, that the only joke I could recall was racist, very offensive and inappropriate, and I really just needed a pee. But they were insistent. I did warn them once more, but... So I started the joke, saying:

Do you remember the Mad Max films? Do you remember the third one; Beyond The Thunderdome? You know how Mel Gibson and Tina Turner star together? Well, apparently once the filming was finished there was a massive after-party and everyone drank too much. Later in the night Mel and Tina ended up in the same hotel room, and they made passionate love. Afterwards they are lying there gasping, sweat running off them, and Tina says ‘Mel, you are a fantastic lover. Please, let’s do that again’. Mel says ‘Tina, you are a wonderful lover too, so sexy and energetic. I’d love to do it again. But please understand I am getting on in years and I need some rest between sex sessions. And while I am asleep I want you to hold onto my penis with both hands’. Tina thinks this is very strange, but she is eager for another steamy session so she complies.

Might I add at this point... I did a visual audience check, and they are all engaged, eyes locked on, leaning forward, focused. I had not been swearing, I’d been keeping things in check, civilised even. So I proceed...

So Mel wakes up after his sleep and jumps back on Tina, and they have wonderful sex for a few hours. Fantastic sex, well timed, and perfectly intimate. And afterwards they are both lying there panting, and Tina says ‘Mel, you are a superb lover. Please, please, let’s do that again’. Mel says ‘Tina, you are a great lover too and I’d love to do it again. But please understand I am not as young as I used to be, and I need some rest between sex sessions. While I am asleep I want you to hold onto my penis with both hands’. Tina again thinks this is odd, but she does it anyway.

Once again I check the small audience of silver headed boffins. I think its going well, and I am on a roll now anyway.

After a while Mel awakens and they get back into it. This time the lovemaking is so intense and fiercely intimate that they are bruised at the end of it, strained and drained. They collapse in each others’ arms. Tina, trembling, mumbles ‘Oh Mel, that was the best sex I have ever had. Please, please... just once more’. Mel says ‘Ok Tina. I really enjoyed that too. I am keen for another session. But you know the drill... I need some rest, and while I am recuperating you have to hold my penis with both hands’.

Tina is really perplexed with this strange request so she says ‘Mel, you are without doubt the world’s best lover, and I understand you are getting a bit older and you need some rest between sex sessions, but I really don’t understand why I need to hold your penis with both hands while you are asleep. What is that all about?’

And Mel says ‘Well Tina, the last black bitch I fucked stole my wallet’



Tumbleweed.


I remember a voice in the grey audience saying, deadpan, ‘That’s not funny’

‘Sorry’ I said.

And went and had the pee I had set out to have.

Fucksocks.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:14, 6 replies)

It started with a poke…

Then a superpoke, then she blocked me for ignoring her...then she sent me ‘sorry hearts and sloppy kisses’, and I was made her best friend (and she only has 97 of them)...so she sent me a 'virtual' pint of lager, but then she bit me, thus turning me into a werewolf, but then I apparently became a rockstar and received lots of little music notes on my funwall before I was asked to play her ‘Guess the celebrity urethra’ competition before I found out she had a crush on me, then I received a little sheep from her vampire and then found out that if she was a car, it would be a Ford Mondeo. I then got a cuddle and a flower and she became a hairy Jedi called Gerald…

No idea who the fuck she was though…I only joined Facebook for the free gifts…
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 12 Sep 2008, 12:00, 1 reply)

Bloody Facebook
It wasn’t my gaff, but I bore the brunt of it.

My former (this is important) best friend of 10 years logs into Facebook one day. Listed on the left-hand side of her screen are the networks of her various friends. My network wasn’t listed, as it had been pushed off by more robust networks.

She thought I had ‘unfriended’ her. Instead of checking to see whether or not we were still ‘virtual’ friends, she immediately fired off an email calling me a sexing ladypart, amongst various other sweary rants about what a bitch I am for cruelly unfriending her on Facebook. Panicked, I log in – lo, we are still ‘friends’. Silly bint was mistaken.

One would and should say ‘oopsie’ at such a gaff, but instead she blocked me. And that’s how bloody Facebook ended 10 years of best friendship.

We haven’t spoken since, but she did track down my B3ta profile! Howdy, you crazy bitch.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:59, Reply)

Knowing your audience
Well this is two stories in one. A feminist, vegetation munching hippy friend of mine asked me to join some hippy forum since the conversations were going stale and she wanted me to pep them up a bit. Being a bit of a smartass I made up a profile that said my hobbies were domestic violence and saluting stuff, and I disliked women's rights and coloured folk. That got me my first slapped wrist.

The second one came when I thought I might start a competition to see who could fit as many cusswords into the opening two sentences of the bible whilst still keeping it legible. I figured since the website was frequented by liberal, free thinking types, it might be a chortle.

That got me slapped wrist number 2, getting comments such as "Dude, not cool. You should love everyone. That's the kind of hatred that makes everything so bad in the world."

Yeah....but...no...but...oh bollocks to you all.

If I last more than a week and a half on b3ta without going off in a strop that'll be a personal best.
(GONEism, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:55, 7 replies)

No place for sarcasm
Ont thing that always gets my goat is that it can sometimes be difficult to relay to someone through type that you're being sarcastic. Getting a degree in creative writing helped me a bit with this but successful sarcasm also requires the recipient to understand it. Whilst getting to know someone through one of these sites (can't remember which one), they remarked how nice it was to talk to someone normal. Thinking it'd be witty, I reply with "yep, I'm pretty normal, save for the whole skullfucking thing".

I was blocked about 3 minutes later.
(GONEism, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:43, 2 replies)

It drives me mad...
I've just had to block a friend so I could escape stop her constant, wittering 'updates' - updates from her honeymoon for crying outloud. Nothing saucy either just utter drivel, like this glorious piece:
'Boo hoo hoo..only 3 days left of my honeymoon...missing u all'
If my wife went near a computer during our honeymoon I'd drown her in the sea and blame it on a pedalo accident. I hope your husband's shafting the maid whilst you're off bleating to the world.
And don't get me started on that Twitter shite. What is the world coming to?
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:39, 5 replies)

Counterstrike bitchslapping
A group of guys I used to work with all used to meet up on the one Counterstrike server and all engaged on stupidly late frag-festing. I personally enjoyed it as it was an oppertunity to stab my manager in the face, and laugh at him the next day (happy days). There was a clan formed from these; I just used to play for a laugh though and never got involved in that.

The admin of the server however was a total cock. He used the tag of the two-headed guy from Hitchhikers Guide and was a real bastard to get on with. Most of us put up with him as we had a laugh with everyone else, but he would always do something which would tick off any player on a regular basis. The guy as far as I was concerned was a bit of a tosser.

So one afternoon, I'm in the house between shifts and stick CS on. Ok, sign onto their server and it's the beginning of a new map with the house in the garden and 4 hostages (can't remember it's name, I think it was CS_Estate). Im on the good guys side and I get a storming start. In fact, by the end of the first 4 rounds I'm 20 kills up. While this is happening, the admin is arguing with 2 frenchies who are playing the game as well. This server is an english speaking server only, and ol' Two-heads is admin shouting like no tomorrow. Me for a laff, I do a quick shoutout "Ou eh le kebab?" and rather than kick the other Frenchies, I get kicked first.
For a kebab comment.
I'm a bit pissed at this.
So I go onto the clan forum and give them a log of what happened. The clan leader comes on and gives me a huge mouthful about how I goaded them on and was abusive towards "his authority". Not having this thinks I. After typing a few comments here and there I called it day with them. A game is a thing which is meant to be a laugh with your mates and relaxing, not something to be bullied through by some bigot.

Epilogue; It turned out that the rest of the clan were a bit unhappy with his attitude beforehand and after this half of the clan left to other servers. A few weeks later he left too and no-one heard from him.
Then out of the blue something extraordinary occured. A new person registers on the clan's forum claiming to be Two-head's neighbour, stating that he heard about him playing CS alot for this clan. He then goes onto say how Two-head hasn't been on for a while as he recently died in a car accident. A few of the clan were really shocked by this news, and obviously a bit upset for him. He was a bastard, but he didn't deserve that.
That was until they did an I.P. trace and found it was posted from his house, it was him who posted the death message about himself. Fucking weirdo; he funnily enough didn't win any friends around for posting that.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:34, Reply)

Be careful...
If invited round to your gay friends house, do not under any circumstances allow him to check gaydar for your location in hunt of 'fit people for when I come to visit'.

You might get an interesting surprise involving one of your other friends, and a predilection for things involving other men, and lots of leather and chains.

Also, do not look in your friends wardrobe unless you like discovering unimaginably monsterous sex toys.
(Merrep, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:25, Reply)

I defy anyone...
... to create a pun out of 'Social Networking Gaffes'.

Well?

*tumbleweed whistles by*

pooflake, chart cat, where are you?
(hangableautobulb is an anagram of the best album ever, on, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:15, 7 replies)

Mr Holmes – you have a lot to answer for…

I don’t mean to sound like a ‘love rat’ or anything but there was a time when I was a bit fed up with my lady, the relationship had gone rather stale and I was looking for a ‘way out’.

So one night when she was asleep I sloped off and joined a famous social networking / dating site.

New to this lark but looking for a potential partner, I entered my ‘preferences’ into the database. I admit I did lay it on a bit thick with the old romance; but stated that I like the usual things – you know, like rum and pineapple cocktails, getting caught in the rain, making love at midnight, champagne, that kind of thing.

Well, I pressed ‘confirm’ and lo and behold – an exact match appeared!

With my heart racing, I proposed a meeting at a bar called O'Malley's the next day at noon. I couldn’t wait.

My red carnation pinned to my suit jacket, I sat in the bar in anticipation of her arrival like a giddy teenager. What would she be like? – Beautiful, or some munting hippopotapig?

Then she walked in. When I saw her smile and the curve of her face I recognised her instantly. It was the missus!

At first I shat a brick – I thought I’d been rumbled - but when she approached me I noticed she also had a carnation on her blouse…it was her that had answered my profile!

This made me realise that we actually already had so much in common…well, what could I do?

…

I shouted ‘You sneaky slag!’, threw my pina colada in her face, then fucked off and ended up shagging the barmaid.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:12, 4 replies)

I much prefer
to do my "social networking" in the pub.
With real people and beer.
Although I have been known to take the laptop (with a usb tv card and one of those little aerials) and a headset in, so I could watch Doctor Who, whilst talking to other Tardis type peeps.
My saddest moment came when another fan came in with me, and did the same thing; we were talking to each other over our headsets. Thankfully a lot of university IT people drink there, so we weren't too out of place.
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:10, Reply)

My apologies for some proselytising...
Jorge Luis Borge came up with this analogy. It was also retread by Baudrillard in Simulacra & Simulation (something I have posted on before).

The analogy:

‘A great Empire created a map that was so detailed it was as large as the Empire itself. The actual map grew and decayed as the Empire itself conquered or lost territory. When the Empire crumbled, all that was left was the map.’

By using these social networking sites, it is the map that we live in, a simulation of reality, and it is reality itself (or our real life social interaction) that is crumbling away from disuse.

I contend that the biggest mistake that we can make is to use the social networking sites in the first place.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 11:03, 6 replies)

Invitation! Invitation! Invitation!
Invitation! 'Invite' is a verb! Aargh!

Sorry. I point this out to many, all the time. This is the closest I come to a social networking gaffe. Thus, as usual, I have no interesting stories. Sorry.
(ThomsonsPier consumes, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 10:52, 2 replies)

facebook carnage!
www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/science-%26-technology/carnage-as-facebook-moves-everything-slightly-to-the-left-200809121250/
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 10:48, 1 reply)

LinkedIn
This site is the interweb equivalent of the work mafia (a phrase I'm sure I've purloined from somewhere else).

OK, freelancing, it's a good idea, doesn't do any harm to get your name about and what not, and tbh, I'd be lying if I said it hadn't done me a good turn now and again (job offers in exotic locations with some gnarly pay and no tax). However...

When you're spotted by a full-time colleague, it's like blood in the water. Flys on shite, at it like knives, at me like dogs, whatever analogy you want. For some reason it becomes a HUGE OFFENSE not to reply almost immediately to an invite to join someones network. Stroll on, eh? I update it when I can (ie: when I'm not elbow-deep in kit or drinking) so relax. It is not the end of the world if I don't immediately acknowledge you.

Try going outside once in a while, and perhaps even trying this crazy thing called "real life networking" where you get to try wacky plug-ins like "genuine females", "weather (a 'Sunshine' plug-in)", "social discourse which doesn't revolve around work" and the amazing "pub"

Losers
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 10:37, 4 replies)

Some years ago..
While still at school I ended up getting into a fight with the school bully and ended up throwing a book at his face. It was only years later that I realised how frighteningly close to a multi-billion dollar concept I was.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 9:58, 6 replies)

2004
I had a profile on a dating site years ago and would have killed for messages like the ones Brixton Bruxelles got. Instead, I neglected to specify which gender I was interested in. Which apparently defaulted me to being gay. I didn't log into it every day, so when I did and saw 20 new messages, I thought "ooo, I'm popular". They were all wobbling, erect cocks.

You'd be surprised how quickly you can be bothered to fill out a profile after being bombarded by cocks.
( Kroney, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 9:46, Reply)

Why?
As I said below, I've never had a Facebook or MySpace. My impression of them is that they are an unfortunate development in modern identity, whereby people feel the need to have a 'presence' beyond their actual presence. Everyone imagines themselves as a brand or a media feature, with the one caveat that these online personae are almost always devoid of interest or substance. The whole thing is a massive delusion in which everyone imagines their life has any kind of importance outside it's own tiny and insignificant context. It's reality TV as personal identity. It's the adolescent urge to say, "Look at me! I'm special! I'm different!"

But you'll notice I'm posting this comment anyway. To try and show how clever I think I am.
(frankspencer, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 9:42, 7 replies)

Relationship Status
On Facebook I used to set my relation status (as I was in one) and for some odd reason I started to change it...

The amount of mails you get from people who rarely talk to you normally and then start asking about what's going on!

IT BEGGARS FUCKING BELIEF!

So I no longer have my relationship status for all to see, if I fuck up then I'll tell my proper mate and then get drunk about it.

Although my mate has an excellent system of changing it randomly from time to time to see what happens.

He also does this with his 'is interested in' section too
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 9:35, Reply)

Outed by Facebook
Our story begins some time last year. I came out of my house in the morning to go to work, to notice a large dent in the wheel arch of my car parked across the street. Evidently someone who was turning in the road, probably to use the postbox by my house, had pranged my car and decided that they were above leaving their details to arrange recompense.

Anyway, I arrive at work still seething, and decided to vent my spleen by posting a Facebook note complete with photos. As my rant built up to a crescendo I suggested that I was fed up with this country and would be looking to leave for Australia or Canada and invited comments and suggestions on that subject.

Now, my friends instead decided to start suggesting that I'd enjoy the view over the Aussie beaches of all the hot guys in speedos, or all the strapping mounties in Canada etc. As one of the gays I consider myself fair game for such comments, but I'd forgotten an important point. Facebook isn't limited to my geeky friends; and whilst I don't consider myself in the closet, I'd not quite worked out how to start the conversation with either of the sets of parents instead opting for the spineless option of waiting until they mentioned it.

So, I was somewhat mortified when this reply to my friends replies appeared on my note:

Friend #1
Canada is full of strapping Mounties

Friend #2
Canada and Australia both are much better sources of "hot men" than here in the UK but at the same time it would be sad to see you leave :(

Friend #3
... Try netherlands I hear they have blonde boys ;)

Stepmum
Joe! Is there anything you want to tell us?

Me (by private message response)
Want to tell you? No not really. Should really tell you? yeah...

So there we go; I was outed to my parents by social networking sites.

EPILOGUE: It transpired that they'd suspected as much but didn't want to ask me because they didn't think it was really their business. It probably doesn't help that I'm comparitively butch (or at least I don't run around in pink hot pants screaming and flailing my arms around). They're very cool about it all and everything is good. Yay for cool parents!
(Joey[kins], Fri 12 Sep 2008, 9:27, 5 replies)

Open mouth, insert... something
One of the women at work was nattering on about her kids and how she vets internet sites before she allows them to join. I'm nodding and "Mm-hm?"ing and not really paying attention.

"They want to join a party site, I forget what it's called now but I need to check it - is it faceparty?"

"No, you're thinking of lemonparty."

I got a bit of a shouting at the following day. I mean, it's not like she doesn't KNOW I'm a complete bastard.
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 7:55, 7 replies)