MyShame

Recently on this very blog, I confessed to participating in the cesspool of ego and local bands known as MySpace in the hopes of meeting a nice gal or at least one I could lightly fondle in public. Having decided this wasn't the best idea, I tried to figure out something else to do on that infernal place of virtual connections.

As I browsed other users profiles I noticed something besides how obscenely everyone edits their profiles. You could enter in information about what school you attended and then find people who you attended that school with. Wahey! This could be fun! I could see who got really fat, and maybe find that hot girl who I totally blew it with which still hurts me deep to this day and yell out to her, "FUCK STEVE AND FUCK TENNIS! LET'S DO THIS!".(You can read about the dumbest thing I have ever done HERE).

So I excitedly type in my High School and graduation year. I quickly brushed off the depression that came along with realizing 1996 was eons go as the results loaded. A list of about 25 people came up. I quickly scrolled through them while saying stuff like, "Holy Crap," "Who the hell is that," and "I can't believe he is still wearing that kilt." I perused several of the profiles of the people I remembered well and found out interesting things like Steve is now a member of the NYPD and doesn't feel at all weird about having a Kylie Minogue song play on his page.

At this point I began to question what I was doing. Why do I care about seeing these people and talking to them now when neither I nor them thought it was worth staying in contact with each other?

Okay I'm lying. What I really thought was, "Oh jesus. How the hell am I going to message these people who have done something with their lives when I all I have managed to do over the last decade is attain minor celebrity status in various Rate My Picture and BBW chat rooms."

A plan was formulated. I would start off my messaging guys I were pretty close with who were bound to still find me funny and charming in a man-crush sort of way. I selected Kevin who I had actually seen a couple years after High School ended. He now works as a morning radio host in upstate New York. This was going to work out well!

And then my brain happened. It began to tell me that a standard message of "Heylongtimenoseehowseverythingbeensorrywelosttouch" wouldn't cut it. I had to be hilarious and wacky. No no. Zany. yes! Totally Zany!

Hey Man! I dunno if you remember me, but we went to high school together. My name was Ryan. A couple years after School ended I changed it to Princess Starshine, but after a buttload of therapy I changed it back to Ryan. Anyway, wow man you have a radio show now. That's soooo crazy! You know what's weird? One night it was like 3 AM and I was listening to WFAN and I heard the guy on mention his producer Kevin and then the producer Kevin spoke and it was totally you! I was going to call up and give you a Shout Out but I was naked and making fajitas so it really wasn't appropriate. So yeah man cool. We should hang out. Get some mexican. Catch up. Lets Go Mets!"

Shockingly I received no response. There's more, but again this is too effin long. Deal with it.