Cracked.com, founded in 2007, is a website spin off from the defunct Cracked Magazine, founded in 1958.

Relying largely on (ostensibly) humorous list articles, Cracked has become rather famous on the internet. Its lists, which can be written by anyone, are rooted in fact (usually) and coated in humor, dispensing interesting historical and scientific trivia surrounded by dick jokes (always). It has about a half dozen full-time columnists on payroll, who dish out weekly and biweekly articles on serious subjects from the cultural effects of the Internet, to Choose Your Own Adventure Gonzo-styled articles about visiting the zoo while on an amount of drugs capable of killing most men, to action reporting while getting kidnapped by pirates.

Small time celebrities including Seanbaby and Michael Ian Black have written articles for Cracked, with Seanbaby now part of the column staff. The website plays host to numerous Internet sketch groups, webcomics (such as Subnormality, White Ninja and Daisy Owl), and has its own caption contest. It has taken on the "Cracked Wikipedia Project" now known as Cracked topics, where Cracked readers submit articles on a variety of subjects, from Steven Seagal to Punk Rock.

On top of the regular columnists, Cracked accepts articles from anybody who wants to write one: all you have to do is create a forum account and then post in this thread to get access to a forum where you can pitch your own potential articles.

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Some amusing articles in this site includes:

5 Real Life Soldiers Who Make Rambo Look Like A Pussy


5 Scientific Reasons People Act Like Assholes


9 Beloved Characters Made Horrifying By Japan


6 Lies About The Human Body You've Learnt In Kindergarten


The 5 Most Ridiculous Lies You Were Taught In History Class


The 6 Cutest Animals That Can Still Destroy You


And so on...

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One of my favourites comedy sites of all time!

I'm getting started with a couple articles to submit there so, hopefully, I'll get some stuff there soon!

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Lo que debería estar haciendo en este momento.

We need a new religion

"Better to write for yourself and have no public than to write for the public and have no self." Cyril Connolly

We might as well start posting articles here.

I wanted to translate this article, but I'm not in the mood to do so.

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The entertainment industry as a whole is shitting Dane Cook-shaped bricks. Sales in music are evaporating*. It's the same with theater tickets**. And print books***. It doesn't take a degree in economics to know that the Internet is the dominating factor behind the loss, but what people are failing to notice is that the death of the sales is exactly what's breathing life back into the actual arts.

You're living in an era that will go down in history as the pivotal point in which the entertainment industry finally got its dick punched off and its power put back in the hands of the consumer, where it belongs. It's happening right now, after a century of them greedily sucking the life and quality out of the mediums we used to love in favor of risk-free profits wrapped up in bullshit, formulated products. But don't get comfortable just yet. Both the corporations and their advocates are fighting to the last breath, and it's easy to find yourself treading in their sewage if you're not prepared for their arguments, like ...





Their Argument:

It's open and shut. Since the invention of Napster, people have been illegally downloading music*, and the industry has never recovered. Spin it any way you want -- the solid, irrefutable fact is that the music industry has lost half of its sales, end of debate. And yes, we're talking about digital downloads, too**, so don't give us that fairy tale horseshit about how declining CD sales are made up for with paid downloads. Piracy is killing the industry, and you are all fucking criminals. And also, you're fat.



But That's Actually Saving the Art Itself Because:

OK, 1) I'm not fat. And 2) If you've ever been in a department store between the months of October and the following January, you've heard the best-selling single in the history of music: Bing Crosby's "White Christmas." To date, it's sold over 50 million copies***, and nothing else even comes close. Now, take a second to find the album it comes from, Merry Christmas, on the list of the best-selling albums of all time****. I'll save you the trouble: It's not on there because it only sold 15 million copies.

Now keep that in mind when we do the reverse. The No. 1 selling album of all time is Michael Jackson's Thriller at 110 million copies. Show me one single from that album on the list of highest selling singles***. Spoiler: Don't waste your time. Great, now I have "The Girl Is Mine" stuck in my head.



This is more relevant than you think. See, back in Bing's day, when records were still a thing, it was common to go out and buy a single in the form of a little record called a 45. Singles sales were huge back then, and if you wanted to be a big music star, you had to release a shitload of them in a way that caught mass appeal. If you didn't, you were a one-hit wonder, and you vanished off the map like fucking Jimmy Hoffa. That form of selling demanded quality on the artists' part, and they had damn well better be able to produce if they wanted to make any money.

In Jackson's heyday, music labels came up with a solution to that whole "People only pay for good music" problem, and the idea of selling singles was phased out. Oh, a few were available if you knew where to look, but not as a staple of the market like in the 1940s through the '70s. No, if you heard a song you liked, you bought the whole damn album, and it usually cost you between $15 and $20 -- hence people bought the album Thriller instead of the seven top 10 singles released from that collection. But there was obviously a problem with that: With the exception of a rare few classic albums (Thriller included), that one song you liked would turn out to be the only good one on the entire LP. It got to the point that you'd walk into a record store and notice that all the customers had a distinct "Don't drop the soap" look on their faces.



Ironically, our advances in technology have brought us back 70 years into the golden age of music marketing. Through digital downloading, we're no longer being held hostage by that type of bullshit "buy in bulk" sales tactic. And since we now buy most of our music one song at a time, the artists are once again held to a higher standard. If they want to make their $20 for an album, and we're already paying $1 per song, then all 20 of their songs had better be good. We'll gladly pay for them if they're worth buying. But now we get to cherry-pick the good stuff and tell them to pack the filler tightly back into the assholes in which they originated.

And don't think I'm just picking on music here. Books are coming around to the same means of marketing, and for the same reasons, the quality of the art is thriving. Our own Robert Brockway***** is living proof of that. He's selling his book Rx****** in a way that makes the readers more comfortable about sinking money into the purchase by releasing it in smaller sections for less money. He's confident enough about the story that he's telling fans, "Here's the first part, and it only costs you two bucks. If you like it, buy the next part. If you don't, no hard feelings. We part ways, and you've lost virtually nothing in the exchange. Also, I actually am fat."

And that's the way it should be. The days of an author getting away with charging $25 for a hardcover, based solely on his name, are coming to an end. And in switching to this new model that's fair to the consumer, pressure has never been higher for an author to put his best effort into his work. If he doesn't, he's going to find himself making a career out of selling the beginnings of books.



Keep in mind that I'm not coming from this as a fist-pumping Internet fanboy, screaming, "Take that, THE MAN!" I'm actually a part of the entertainment industry. I'm banking on getting a book deal based on the exact Internet buzz that these people are claiming kills their trade. And I'm not even remotely afraid of doing things in favor of the actual customer, because at its core, the Internet crowd rewards people who show them some semblance of respect. If you don't believe that, look up the name "Jonathan Coulton."

All we're doing is setting the price back down to where it should be. Good money for quality entertainment.





Their Argument:

Let's say we have a goofy little movie about a plane that's full of snakes. And let's say that, hypothetically, we sunk $33 million into the production of that movie based on Internet response. Let's also say that, based on the online reaction, we actually went back and reshot some of the scenes to add in exactly what they were asking for. Would it be out of line to tell those people to go fuck themselves when the opening weekend only produced $13.8 million*? And a steady 50 to 68 percent loss every weekend thereafter? Would that be considered rude?

Look, we've tried utilizing the Internet crowd. We've asked flat out, "What do you want? We'll make it." And every time, it turns out to be a complete financial disaster. An unwatchable fucking embarrassment. Ever seen Fred: the Movie? Don't answer that, we already know you didn't.



But That's Actually Saving the Art Itself Because:

When done right, the Internet can break down that barrier between the creators and the audience, effectively removing the thick wall of suits in between. And make no mistake, those suits are the number one killers of creativity on this planet. I'll give you a prime example, and even if you're not a video game person, stick with me here. You'll understand why in a minute.

For the people who are into video games, tell me if you recognize any of these titles: Maniac Mansion? Secret of Monkey Island? Grim Fandango? All legendary games made by the same legendary designers. They have droves of fans beating down their door, begging for an old-school adventure game, the requests written on their exposed boners. But the guys simply don't have the resources for making one. Publishers wouldn't even consider the idea. But by God, the Internet would.**



The guys went to a site called Kickstarter*** and set out to raise $400,000 for production. So far, over 55,000 people have donated $1.8 million.**** No suits. No corporations. Just pure, unbridled freedom to make whatever they want. That is the power of the Internet, harnessed by people who understand how to fucking use it.

Or how about first-time authors selling a million books without a publisher*****? Consider that an extreme success story? OK, fine, how about Robert Brockway's book****** that I mentioned earlier? So far it's matching the sales of his last book, which was printed and promoted the old-school way (a physical book, on shelves, a whirlwind tour of the USA complete with ticker tape parades) using nothing more than the thousands of dollars he paid me to insert that link.



Or take the example of Cracked's own David Wong*******, who gave away his story******** in its entirety for free on his own site for years before someone came knocking with a publishing deal. And now it's a freaking movie******** that just premiered at the Sundance Film Festival**********. All based on Internet interest and Internet buzz, and we didn't need a $33 million budget to do it (the book was written for less than half that).

When my own book comes out, regardless of whether I choose Brockway's path of self publication or Wong's path of using a traditional publisher, the core is still the same: We're all relying on Internet word-of-mouth to generate those sales. If it works, we've done our jobs. If it doesn't, we were never deserving of a publication in the first place, and we will accept that. In both cases, the Internet crowd has the final say. And just for the record, I don't think any of you guys are fat. Unless you like that sort of thing ... in which case, buy my book when it comes out, fatass.





Their Argument:

Just look at what they did to Charlie Sheen. The guy has one public meltdown, and the online crowd swarmed on him like fucking piranhas. They did the same thing to Michael Richards when he went on his racist tirade. Look, we're not excusing their actions by any means -- they had some weak moments and did some inexcusable things. But destroying their careers for it? Come on. How can anybody justify the TMZ.com-style obsession over every famous person's bad habits?



But That's Actually Saving the Art Itself Because:

Do you realize how much bullshit celebrities used to get away with before the Internet? In the late '80s, Rob Lowe taped himself fucking a 16-year-old girl, and he got off with a court settlement and some community service. Charlie Sheen himself has been arrested multiple times for everything from hardcore drug use to domestic violence, long before his famous meltdown. You know that tired old joke about "snorting cocaine off of a stripper's ass"? Charlie Sheen has actually done that. So what's the difference between then and now?

I can explain that with a simple video that most of you have already seen. It's Michael Richards' apology on Letterman, and when you're watching it, don't listen to what Richards is saying. Instead, listen to the audience:



Hear them laughing? They're not doing it because they think racism is funny -- it's not a roomful of YouTube commenters. They're doing it because the entire thing sounds like a setup to a really bizarre joke. You have to remember that the incident he's apologizing for had just made the news that day. Most of the people in that audience had no idea how severe his actions really were, or that there was even a story at all. To them, it sounded like Letterman and Seinfeld were setting up a skit where "Kramer" got heckled and later apologized for getting angry. It even made Dave's monologue from earlier sound like a setup for this very scene.

If this had happened before the Internet, the news would have gone nuts with reports for about a week. But producers know that harping on a story gets stagnant really fast, so by the end of the week, they would have moved on to something else and the whole thing would have been tucked away. But if the Internet is known for anything, it's for not letting shit die. In most cases, this trait makes you want to beat them all until science categorizes them as liquid, but in a situation like this, the result actually helps humanity.



There is such an astronomical difference between reading about the fiasco in print versus seeing the actual incident take place. And once the Internet saw that original video, we demanded payment in the form of his career. And yes, the industry is better for it.

Society has a way of putting people's egos in check. And for a very long time, stars were handed free passes to do what they wanted, when they wanted. Now we as an audience are finally able to give them the same relentless mocking the rest of us would get for doing shameful bullshit. Is that being judgmental on our parts? You're goddamn right it is, and we're not apologizing for it. We can't force the courts to hold these people to the same rules that they would apply to us (go on a 36-hour cocaine bender* and see how your local judge reacts -- actually, don't do that, it ends badly), but we can damn well make sure that they don't get rewarded for it. Whether they want to be or not, these people are role models for our kids, and we finally have the power to pick and choose those people as we see fit.



Forcing the industry's employees to stay somewhat sane and not quite so criminal keeps them in touch with the majority of its audience. You know, the people who can't quite relate to kidnapping and torturing women for fun**. And yes, we do believe that removing them is a good thing.





Their Argument:

Since you don't buy a physical copy, you don't actually own any of that. Your E-books, Steam games, music ... all of that is hosted on a server. If you lose access to that account, they're gone. Yes, you can stream Netflix movies and TV shows all day, but if you don't pay your subscription, all of that access just vanishes. Everything you've paid for up to this point is treated like a rental. You've paid for it. Don't you want to keep it?



But That's Actually Saving the Art Itself Because:

Don't get me wrong, we've talked before* about how companies basically retain the right to repossess your digital goods at any time. But that doesn't totally shift the balance of power to the corporations' favor.

For instance, thanks to the Internet, we finally have a means of banding together to stomp out any fuckery a corporation tries to pull. Let's take that Netflix example. Just last year, they announced that they were splitting off their service into two separate companies**. One would specialize in streaming content, while the other would take over the DVD mailing system that Netflix was originally known for. The Internet crowd lost their minds because they knew that two companies meant each would eventually charge their own separate fees, each getting raised periodically, and that everybody would have separate accounts and separate bills. Same service, twice the bullshit.

Fortunately for us, there's power in numbers, and through the sheer volume of our bitching, Netflix finally issued an apology and scrapped the whole project***.



A more recent version popped up just a few days ago on the heels of Whitney Houston's death. Twelve hours after the announcement, two of her biggest albums suddenly went up in price by about 60 percent. Blogs lit up like a Vegas strip club, and before you knew it, the whole Internet was saturated with the story. ITunes blamed Sony, who remained silent for a couple of days -- you know, instead of coming right out and saying, "Really? There must be some misunderstanding. We'll get it fixed." Then, when they finally did break their silence, they further passed the blame onto some dude in England****.

It wasn't very long ago that nobody would have noticed. The only way you could have is by hanging out in a record store and physically seeing the price being changed. On the Internet, we have the ability to amass hundreds of thousands of people at any given time, and some of those people are going to be able to step up and say, "No, they're flat out lying. I was just about to buy it six minutes ago, and it was less than half of what they're charging now. Here's a screenshot. Oh, and while you're at it, here's a picture of my dick, if any ladies are interested."



For the first time in history, we have the power to say, "We know you're bullshitting us. And we're holding you accountable for it."





Their Argument:

Take a quick look at YouTube's most popular videos. It's things like Fred and Justin Bieber and LMFAO. It's this kind of bullshit that's destroying the very entertainment you claim to love. The Internet crowd's interest in vapid crap like this just shows us that you guys have no idea what you want or how to produce it yourselves. And until you can prove otherwise with cold hard cash, this is the type of stuff we're going to continue feeding you, because you've demonstrated that if we put it on your plate, you will eat it. Again, we're calling you fat.



But That's Actually Saving the Art Itself Because:

We are also more efficient at disseminating reviews of content than at any time in human history. An overhyped but shitty movie basically has one day at the box office before bad Internet buzz kills it. People start tweeting bad reviews before they even put their coats back on, and you can see it in the numbers. Take a look at the weekend earnings from a well-received movie like Inception*:

Friday: $21.8 million -- "Hey, that was good, you should go see it."

Saturday: $21.8 million -- "Hey, you were right. I told my friends to see it, too."

Sunday: $19.2 million -- "Man, that was awesome. I know a few people who would love this."



For films, Sunday almost always lags behind by about 10 percent because people just don't go to the movies as much on that day. In America, Sunday is traditionally know as the "Get Drunk and Shit off of Your Roof" day. They get mad if you celebrate that in theaters -- it's fucking religious persecution, man. But I digress, let's compare that to the recent turd [/i]The Devil Inside[/i]**.

Friday: $16.7 million -- "Man, the trailer was better than the actual film. Don't bother with this one."

Saturday: $11.7 million -- "I should have listened to you. I'll be spreading the word on Twitter."

Sunday: $5.1 million -- "We had to watch it -- we're related to the people in the movie."



We don't give free rides anymore, and unless the entertainment industry immediately accepts and embraces that point, it is going to collapse in ways that make the current sales backslides seem like dropping loose change in the couch cushions. Now that we're in the "download one song at a time" era, an artist is forced to re-earn their fan base with every project.

There was a time, not long ago, when having Nicholas Cage*** as the lead in your movie meant automatic box office success. But after a handful of questionable roles and oddball performances, the Internet has reduced him to a punchline. The same thing happened with Michael Cera**** so badly that they had to hide his face on the movie poster for Scott Pilgrim vs. the World:



Don't take what I'm saying as gospel. I'm not an expert and I'm not a big enough hypocrite to proclaim that you should take any of this article as advice***** if you're an artist worried about your future. I'm just saying that what so many people see as death, the rest of us see as rebirth. This is happening, right now, whether you're prepared for it or not. This is a shift in power from distributors to artist/audience that's been a long time coming, and I'm enjoying every goddamn second of it.

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I got my first computer in the mid '90s, and as a teenager, I acquired every kind of virus downloading porn can give you. I went to all the corners of the World Wide Web. I went to its seedy little bars, its quaint villages, its cult-run compounds and more than one of its highway rest stops. And now I'm going to tell you, unequivocally, what the five worst things on the Internet are. Because I looked them all in the eye and saw a wretched hole filled with human suffering where their soul should have been.

Lest you think this list will include such hilarious things as "2 Girls 1 Cup," some manner of off-colored waffles or citrus-based parties, let me assure you, those are nothing. Those are what the cretins email to their cronies. No, I'm talking about a more existential level of awfulness. I'm talking about the things that, on a subconscious level, make you feel just a bit queasy every time you log on, but they not only persevere, they thrive and blossom and grow. Like wieners. Cankerous wieners.

#5. Memes

Evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins gave us the word "meme" as a term to describe the aspects of a culture that spread and replicate over time and through the influence of the people and culture that make use of them. The concept is both diffuse and precise at once, and was generally meant to indicate something like fashion, which shifts and adapts on a cultural level as it is influenced by a small number of individuals and then imitated to a greater or lesser degree by a larger number. A meme is not a cat having invisible butt sex. Not even invisible butt secks.

Because the Internet refined the long definition of meme down to "something that is imitated," memes are now little more than knock-knock jokes with novel, slightly new punch lines each time. As an example, here's that popular Handsome Soren Bowie meme that the kids love so much these days:



When my mother punishes me for my tardiness, she makes me wear a Soren Bowie mask so she'll at least feel a small pang of regret.

Now, while this meme is clearly awesome, others are not. Most are not. They're the online version of yelling "I love lamp" totally unprompted and waiting for everyone to congratulate you on how funny it was when you quoted that movie line from some years ago, quite out of context. You comedy trailblazer, you.

Memes are a barometer of online human laziness and lack of creativity. Whole message boards are devoted to the creation of new and the proliferation of old ones. When a new meme pops up -- for instance, Ridiculously Photogenic Guy* -- it becomes so popular that you can expect to see it everywhere. Photogenic Guy ended up in worldwide news, on Gawker, Yahoo!, Huffington Post, ABC News and elsewhere while journalists kept using the word "viral" because someone in marketing told them to, even though you can tell by their expression that they keep equating it with herpes in their head. Space-age herpes. You get it from trying to bang a floppy drive. Those reporters still have floppy drives.



What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK? Why? When did the masses pool together to have a conference and follow-up referendum on how to collectively start giving any shits about this stuff? If memes are a method of identifying a culture, future civilizations will assume we were a people made up entirely of puns that would have been booed off of vaudeville stages, and wordplay as clever as swordplay with a slow-witted baby with motor control issues is dangerous.

#4. Twitter

Never before in history have so many done so little for so long. Twitter is the technological equivalent of that scene in a movie where the nerdy lead character tries in vain to signal to the hot girl across a crowded room who he thinks just noticed him and then, upon realizing she was waving to someone else, tries to casually run his hand through his hair as though that was his plan all along.



In fairness, as part of my actual job, I am on Twitter all day long making terrible one-liners, but that's only because it's my job and I am so terribly desperate for the validation of complete strangers. But at least I realize it. As an aside, how are you liking this article? Someone as attractive and smart as you could be off partying with celebrities, but I'm glad you're here with me. Come sit by me. I have pie.

Twitter lets you sit in your underpants eating peanut butter from a jar while you converse with celebrities, entrepreneurs, writers, politicians, psychotics, fame whores and Gladstone. Always Gladstone. There's no buffer zone, no wall. The only thing you have to keep you away from the influx of crazies is your own visibility. The more popular you are, the more attention you get, but the less likely you are to notice it all. Kim Kardashian has 14.5 million followers, several of whom she hasn't had sex with or married. In all of that, she probably has never seen one of my offers to take her out for sandwiches. And I don't give a shit, I will take her right the fuck out for sandwiches. Kim Kardashian, if you see this, I will buy you lunch. Anywhere you like, up to like $30 each. But on Twitter, because so many people are offering her sandwiches or Armenian waxing kits or whatever, she's missing out.

On the flip side, the account I use most often has around 5,000 followers. So if you send me a tweet, not only do I get angry that I have to use the word "tweet" like some kind of misfit toddler out bird-watching, but I'll see it. So if I make a hilarious one-liner about Tony Danza's BO, and you respond by telling me you want to spoon me in a hammock, I'll see that, and I'll always know you thought it, and we'll never be able to hang out, not ever. Unless it's a nice hammock.

#3. Podcasts

Full disclosure -- I do not have a podcast. I was a guest on one once, and it was fun, and I have listened to several and enjoyed them immensely. So how can podcasts be one of the worst things on the Internet? Has the world gone topsy-turvy? Should we all eat arsenic-laced applesauce and masturbate while we die? No. Why would you ask that?

Podcasts are like gremlins. Put that on a T-shirt, future generations will love it. One gremlin is no big deal. It might even be awesome. Remember when Billy had Gizmo at work in New York, in his desk, and it was all adorable and shit? God, Gizmo's a great guy. But then what happened? Some twat dumped water on Bill's hard work and it ran into his drawer and then Gizmo shat out a bunch of prick gremlins and fake Donald Trump nearly lost an entire building full of innocent people and potentially the entire city of New York to ravenous, green assholes with a penchant for slapstick. Which is exactly what happens when podcasting gets out of hand.



To better elucidate the value of podcasts, I made this handy formula. It's a little complex, but the math is sound and it holds up under scrutiny, at least according to the janitor, who I assume has Good Will Hunting-like powers. His name's Gus. He makes his own salami. Good guy.



Now, applying this across the field of podcastery, which is not even a word, so don't jot this part down in your notebooks, you'll see that precisely 1 in 70 podcasts have any merit. The rest are podcasts by your dentist about how he just found the greatest deal on argyle sweaters and the body in the crawl space still seems fresh.

A podcast, like all things on the Internet, refuses to be bound by any rules except those it makes itself. TV shows are usually 30 or 60 minutes in length. Radio shows have DJs who get paid money and, apparently, entertain some people. Movies are generally between 90 and 120 minutes. Gary Fuckchuckle's Smile Time Podcast can be 17 hours straight, then have no new material for a month, then a 30-minute episode followed by an hour episode later that same day, then nothing for a week, until his three fans renounce him forever. Also, having nothing to say doesn't stop most podcasts from existing. That should really be an indicator to shut the fuck up. But it isn't.

#2. Shopping

Fuck Internet shopping. You should bookmark Amazon and a store that sells artisanal cheeses and that's it. EBay? Fuck no. Don't ever go to eBay. This stuff is on eBay.



That's a scrotum and a magic spell to give you a fat ass. It will cost you $26 for the pair. And neither one of them is a joke. Someone is in the market of selling scrotums and fat-ass spells as you read this. Think maybe you'll shop on Etsy instead? First, stop reading this article immediately. Go wash your mouth out for saying that, you dirty hipster. Now come back and look at this.





That's a forlorn, depressed pig couch. You can't buy it on Etsy because it's already been sold. But it was there. And it's been replaced with something just as ridiculous, you can rest assured. If there's something far too ludicrous to exist in a real store because it would be taking up real estate from literally anything else, someone sells it online. Do you want a plaster bust of Eleanor Roosevelt eating a sausage? It's probably online. Do you want a painting of a narwhal fighting a shark with a sword? It's online.

#1. Facebook

Sweet Jesus. Did you know that 2 out of every 1 people on Earth have a Facebook account? It's true. Look up the biblical signs of the Antichrist and see if Mark Zuckerberg doesn't fit them. You can't escape Facebook on the Internet, but I'll be the first to say I generally don't give a shit. I'm not one of those anti-Facebook hipsters* all proud of how I don't even have an account and won't ever get one, or how I used to have one -- back in 2004, ya fuckin' square! And now I'm on the coolest new social network, Fucklechuck.com, where you can only post sepia-tone photos of broken housewares and abandoned cars, and your status updates have to be moderated by Fucklechuck's patented ennui filter before they go live.





The problem with Facebook is not Facebook. It's every asshole you ever met showing you every asshole picture they ever took of every asshole they ever met who posts every asshole thought they ever had about every asshole date, job, party, school, funeral, porn shoot, exorcism, ritual suicide and box social they ever attended. The sarlacc hasn't seen a gaping hole so big as the spiritual asshole Facebook represents. It's everything. It's always everything every day and it never ends.

You know from your own life that you genuinely only like about six people. Maybe your parents, maybe someone you sleep with, a couple of friends and me. But you have more than us on your friends list. You have like 400 people on your friends list. Who are those people? Is that a guy you went to school with in sixth grade? Is he on your friends list? Tell that guy to fuck himself. For the good of your mental health, demand he fuck himself and make it his status update, and inform him that you'll never read it because you're unfriending him, but he'd still better do it.

Don't let the Internet screw with you. You still master it, it's a tool for your enjoyment. Remember that. Also, please bookmark me.

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