Well, if I wasn't Friendster-ed out already, there's an article on Buttafly that took the remaining wind out of the sails. I went through all that stuff, creating my profile (even putting my own damn face on it), building my network, essentially gorging myself on the Friendster experience. But, like all gorgings, you come to your senses, covered in beer, buffalo wing sauce, [body fluid double entendre deleted], etc. and ask yourself as you're puking your guts out, "What was this all for?"
I had only recently started to come to these conclusions on a subconscious level, anyway. I guess I could always take myself out of that network, but that smacks of effort.
I had only recently started to come to these conclusions on a subconscious level, anyway. I guess I could always take myself out of that network, but that smacks of effort.
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