>>> Casual Misanthropy
By staff writer JD Rebello
January 30, 2005

Okay, we'll make this short and sweet:

Nobody wants to see your Webshots. So stop trying.

I've had it. I've really fucking had it. For those who've been following my column for a while (thanks Dick Cheney's lesbian daughter!), AIM profiles are a bit of a sore subject with me and nothing gets the anger juices flowing like a stupid, pointless, meandering, clichéd AIM profile.

Whether it's soul-sucking lyrics of the Jason Mraz variety, inane shoutouts to your current boy toy/fuck buddy/inflatable love doll, or self-involved khaki stains who publish quotes of themselves, AIM profile abusers are the very worst of the worst, the veritable Taliban of the Internet War on Terror. And now there's a new Usef Bing-Ghaba Bong, and thy name is WEBSHOTS.

For those lucky enough to have been holed up in a Unabomber-like cabin for the past year eating steak out of cans, I'll explain. Webshots is a website where you can share your digital pictures with the world, attracting the most vapid and boring people imaginable. Who are these people anyway who waste valuable internet time looking at Webshots? Can someone show these fuckers a good porn site? Honestly.

My problem with Webshots is that most of the people who upload their digital dreck upon the world are hideously boring, albeit just like you and me. So as a result, us, the poor unsuspecting Web surfer is lulled into a world that celebrates the inane minutiae of some other leech's life. Hence, we're exposed to thrilling photo albums like: “That day at the beach that one time” or “Me and the gang playing canasta.” Who gives a rat's ass?

Besides, there are only two things people are looking for on a Webshots profile: pictures of themselves, and titties. The latter we'll get into in a moment (don't worry, I've devoted plenty of column space).

We're self-absorbed, so this is our one hope for being immortalized on the Web, unless you're lucky enough to write meandering columns every Sunday for a low to medium-trafficked humor site. We don't want to see pictures like: “Me and Ryan.” Hey guys, it's Ryan. Holy shit, Ryan's on the Web! Print this out and put it on the fridge! I want to see “Me and Justin.” Or if you're a chick, “Me and Justin…doing it.”

The second thing we yearn for on Webshots is breastices. Boobs. I love it when a girl gets carried away and puts dozens of pics of herself in a bikini online. Imagine being this poor broad's boyfriend. Now everyone, anytime they want, can picture your girlfriend in her skimps. If you're one of those boyfriends reading this, be advised. I've probably whacked to pictures of your girlfriend. So there.

I mean, that's the best you can hope for, amidst the “Kate's wedding” and “Thanksgiving Eve Party!” and “Me and the Guys playing in Traffic”. It's all anyone can hope for. Easy-access pictures of hot chicks without needing a credit card. God, I hope that's what Larry Webshot was thinking when he invented this website.

So how can we stop the Webshot virus from spreading? Simple evasive maneuvering. Just don't look. If nobody's looking, eventually people will realize that there is a world outside their digital camera. Hopefully, we can even tear the website down, while other important sites like www.tubgirl.com are still bringing in millions by the day. If you see someone on your buddy list with one of those http://community.webshots.com/user/Bigfatannoyingdouchebag links in their profile, block the living shit out of them. You don't want to be friends with someone who's that in love with themselves.

And if we must prattle on with this Webshot madness, may I suggest a spin-off website? How about a 24-hour video of me taking a dump? Yeah, that will be a gay olde time. We can call it: “Me and Toilet at the beach that one time playing Canasta on St. Patrick's Day With the Gang.” Oh, you know you'll watch.

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