No, really. I'm obsessed. Like a cartoon once said, "I love my computer. All my friends are in it." It's true. You guys are all in it.
Hi! I'm tapping the computer screen! Can you see me waving?
:: blows kisses ::
Everyone's worth is completely measured based on MySpace rankings, and if I do not have the time to maneuver you into at least my Top 16, stop wasting your breath with me. Honestly.
On MySpace I can use full stalking abilities to track each and every move of my favorite bands. And look at pictures. And listen to new music. And keep my eye on tour schedules like a hawk to wait for the literal nanosecond paramore comes within 300 miles of me.
(That would be April 19, by the way. Two days after My Chemical Romance does the same).
(Yes. That just made my mind explode).
So, you guessed it. I recreated a MySpace account. But, no, I probably do not want to be your friend. Because my friend list is made up solely of magical musical artists who won't write obnoxious messages on my profile wall, or send lewd requests in the form of nude pictures.
Our friendship can only go as far as Facebook.