Where would we be without social networking sites? We’d never know that the cheerleader who made fun of us in high school got fat, or that the boy who pulled our pigtails in elementary school got married to the girl who gave our boyfriend chlamydia in college. You’d have no idea that the world was so small, that your best friend is currently “totally stressing,” or that your mother knew how to upload pictures. And who do we have to thank for these little joys? The men of MySpace, Twitter, and Facebook, of course, who all happen to be smart, wealthy and hot! Even though Rupert Murdoch (who bought MySpace for $580 million) said the site is for stalkers, and Facebook is rife with Obama haters who want him dead, and Twitter hasn’t earned a single dollar in revenue, these are our boys. And we know just what to do with them.
SHUN: Tom Anderson of MySpace. I’ve harbored a crush on Tom since he became my first friend back in 2003, but he hasn’t been answering my emails or commenting on my page in months, except to solicit me for a Macy’s gift card. Then I found out that he was lying about his age the whole time—the guy’s 38 years old now! Even though I think it’s hot that he was a 14-year-old master hacker who had to be shut down by the FBI, that was over 20 years ago now. I can’t get over the deceit. I’m sorry Tom; you’re not my friend. Unsubscribe.
SHAG: Jack Dorsey of Twitter. I hated Jack from the beginning. I don’t care what he’s doing 90 percent of the time. I don’t want to know when he’s out with other girls, or that he just ate dinner or burped up tacos. But then I saw his picture, and it was lust at first sight. Not love at first sight — because anyone who extracted and then magnified just the most self-absorbed part of what already existed in other social networking sites is probably self-obsessed as well. But damn, he’s cute. I would re-tweet the hell out of him if it meant he’d let me come grease his keyboard.
MARRY: Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook. At first, I was a little annoyed that Mark was always poking me, but eventually I realized that, like an adolescent school boy, he poked me because he liked me! He’s a nebbish, smart-alecky atheist from the New York suburbs who dropped out of Harvard and moved to Palo Alto with no money and no car when he thought (quite correctly) he had something he could work with. In other words, he has chutzpah to share. And if you squint just a little bit, he totally looks like Michael Cera. I just joined his mob and sent him an electronic margarita. He can totally poke me anytime now.