i surrender: my mind, she is blown

12Jan07

Yesterday’s Guardian had an article in it about blogging and how the role of the ‘critic’ is evolving. The main points were that 1) these days pretty much anyone can make their (informed or otherwise) opinions available for public consumption, and 2) even the more established, respected critics now have to contend with a torrent of immediate, impassioned feedback from the unwashed masses. It was an interesting piece.

I bring this up because the article included the following quote (from a blogger in Tokyo):

Someone I knew likened posting messages on the internet to being drunk, and I can see something in this. There are cheery drunks, funny drunks, idiotic drunks who think they’re clever, unfunny drunks who think they’re amusing, and there are angry drunks. The same goes with people who post messages on the web.

Which is just so very, very true.

ESPECIALLY on Craigslist.

I only recently discovered Craigslist. It started out innocently enough; I just wanted to get a sense of the real estate situation in Austin, to see what kind of used car I might be able to find, etc. You know. Responsible stuff. Of course, apartment listings (even the most titillating ones, complete with keywords like UNIQUE! CHARMING! BRICK! LOFT! HARDWOOD!) can only hold one’s attention for a limited period of time. It wasn’t long before I crumbled in the face of that guiltiest of guilty voyeuristic pleasures: the personals.

Craigslist personals, my friends, are full of InternetDrunks. And I have become addicted to their sheer, unfettered, unapologetic insanity. After two straight weeks of obsessively tracking every single listing in every available category (Rants and Raves, Best of Craigslist, m4w, w4m, m4m, w4w, Strictly Platonic, and yes, even Casual Encounters), I have learned things about the human species that I honestly did not know. Things I may have been better off never knowing. Things that make me physically cringe, the kind of cringe I usually reserve for ugly, inappropriate public drunkenness that leaves witnesses achingly embarrassed yet completely transfixed.

I mean, I suppose I always knew that somewhere out there, ‘Sugar Daddies’ did exist. It’s just that I subconsciously assumed such goings-on only took place in a universe far, far away, in a magical land full of cotton candy where even the grossest old men look like Richard Gere, where the young, red-headed hookers have oodles of integrity and know how to drive a stick shift. But no. No. I was wrong. These people, they live in my world, and they meet through Craigslist via ads with jarringly straightforward titles like “POTENTIAL SUGAR DADDY SEEKS HOT YOUNG MALL SLUT.”

MALL SLUT? I don’t even know what that is! Is the slut supposed to work at the mall? What if the slut simply hangs out at the mall? What if said slut only visits the mall on occasion, driven by the instinct to stock up on the latest fashions from Forever 21? Is that enough mall action to turn SugarPotential into SugarReality?

Sometimes, when the SugarGods are truly smiling, the men even post pictures of their dangly bits. I mean, I am assuming it’s theirs. It could be anyone’s. That’s the beauty of the interweb. I suppose ultimately, it doesn’t really matter. Because stumbling across an unexpected photo of an erect penis? It gets the wimminfolk all hot and bothered. EVERY TIME.

…

I’ve worn myself out for now, but I will say this: It is ON, Craigslist. I, too, am an InternetDrunk in my own right, and I am planning on many, many more awkwardly pointless, cringe-worthy RANT/RAVE-style blog posts detailing my loss of innocence at your hands.

This is far from over.