A dozen whores, and I didn’t even have to die for Islam.

12 online prostitutes just Friend Requested me on Myspace. Did one of you spread the word that I’m e-pimpin’ again?

It’s all good, though, ’cause City City wants to be friends too. What, you’ve never heard of City City? Me neither. They contacted me because they “heard” I like the band Ratatat and they “kind of do similar things.” You kind of do similar things? Here’s something you do similarly: You both hit me up for Friend Requests on Myspace.

Myspace, you have become a social networking spam folder of obsolescence.

No, worse. Myspace, you have become Friendster. Remember Friendster?

Sure, Myspace was fun back when there were old friends to re-connect with. But everyone who will ever use Myspace already uses it, and we’ve already re-connected with them. It was great to catch up for a little while, exchanging emails and (as the kids say) peeping pics (trust me, they say it). But eventually we reach a point where we’re caught up. Then what?

Of course there are exceptions, but most of the time the social networking site mirrors reality and we fall out of touch again, because we’re not meant to know everyone forever. The close friendships don’t usually require a networking tool so the tool becomes obscelete.

And then an unsuspecting site like Myspace dies because the only people approaching us there are internet prostitutes and bands we’ve never heard of. It’s like “Hollywood: The Social Networking Site.” And as a current resident of Hollywood, I can tell you, that’s scary on the internet AND in real life.

So we find a new site to populate. Thank God for Facebook, that’s where our new old friends reside. Only now they have hyphenated names and children. We can’t be more than a handful of future sites away from having social geriatric pages where we all tag photos of our grandkids and organize online bridge tournaments. It will be called Cryspace, and the word “blog” will be a synonym for “obituary.”

If there is one thing you take from this reading experience, let it be this: Gotta tag your grandkid photos, yo. Gotta.

Wow, today has been really internet-heavy. I guess I spent too much of the day chatting with Telly. There, Telly, you’re in the blog. Happy now?! Anybody else need a shout-out or can I get back to pumping out hard news and serious editorials?

I take my blogging VERY seriously. It may be shits and giggles to you all but when I write this stuff it’s like Code:Orange up in this piece.

I blog because if I don’t, people die.

My name is Ben and this has been my most serious blog yet.