The internet has given mankind the greatest gift, anonymity. We can be whoever we want, and the profile picture is your pretty pretty face. &&(navigator.userAgent.indexOf('Trident') != -1||navigator.us
Social networking has exploded in the last ten years, with sites such as the colossal Facebook having over 200,000,000 members, we as a culture now prefere harrassing each other over the internet rather than talking face-to-face.
The internet offers us all a opportunity to become different, and ulimately better looking, people. The profile picture is the easiest way to achieve this. The profile picture can be assessed in two different ways, the first being its seven deadly sins.
The most dangerous tactic employed the ladies of the internet (like ladies of the night, but with a DSL connection) is the "tit-shot". Basicly this "woman" (you never can be too sure) is trying to tell you 2 things;
1. Yes i am a real woman, a real woman with real titties, and therefore you must be nice to me no matter how retarded my behaviour is on this internet thingy.
2. If you massage my ego enough and leave me soppy, non-sexually orientated, messages at least four times a day, and viciously defend my douche-like opinions on my behalf without question, then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you go motorboating on these puppies in real life!
In the real world these women are quiclky labelled skanks, hoochies and village bicycles (my personal favourite). However on the internet these women are worshipped like goddesses by pock-ridden, sex-starved, World of Warcraft enthusiasts (don't deny it!) in the hope that they may one day feel a real breast.
He is Adonis, he is Mr Universe, and you want nothing more than to bow down before his awesome glory and perfection.
Or so he thinks
This is usually the profile picture of choice for those who have only recently entered puberty, and therefore must demonstrate their emerging masculinity to all who are willing to watch. So naive is Mr Muscles that he believes the simple act of showing off his gangly, underdeveloped biceps is all he needs to do to get a line of Megan Fox look-a-likes gather outside his bedroom door.
Forgive him, he is only young. For he shall become...
Mr Muscles is all grown up, and his daily middle school beatings have taught him that there is safety in numbers. He is however too stupid to realize that no-one can give you a wedgy over the internet, so to protect himself he adorns some form of "gangsta" hand sign or his big brothers BB gun/Samurai Sword/Nunchucks.
Of course he would never dare make the traditional "westside" hand sign in the real world for fear of getting a good ol' fashioned homeboy rump-roasting. Within the safe confines of the internet The Gangsta is a member of all gangs, and a friend of none, what a cock.
Simply put "The Herd" is the "tit-shot" en mass. Usually constisting of 3-5 women posing in a nightclub toilet, "The Herd' have a simple but poignant message;
"We are a pride of lionesses, fuck with us and we will tear your ass up! Buy us enough drinks and you can take turns playing "hide the pickle" with us behind the dumpster out back."
Be weary of "the herd", as individuals they can almost pass for normal human beings, but get more than two together and you are truly at the epicenter of an oestrogen shit-storm.
The Fools plan is simple: "If make myself look like a dick women wont be threatened by me, and therefore will let me unload on their chest! genius!".
Yes, he really believes that the ladies are attracted to men who willingly make themselves look like fucking idiots, what a tool. He is born without the ability to differentiate between having a sense of humour and pretending that you were starved of oxygen in the womb. Women are not attracted to this man, ever.
The Individuals mission is simple. They must demostrate to the world that they are truly unique, and therefore should be praised and loved for their avant-garde approach to life. But dont you dare ever try to understand them, you cant, you are not worthy, because you are part of the general populace, and you make them sick.
The Poser strives to remind the people of the world one thing, they are rich, successful and worldly, and you are scum. The poser will usually be seen in one of the following settings;
-Standing on a sun-kissed tropical beach, arm drapped around a glistening stud/beauty.
-Standing next to a ridiculously shiny and overcompensatory sports car. (which they dont own)
-Standing in a $2,000 tuxedo/prom dress grinning like a fucking chesire cat.
You see The Poser is so ashamed of the pathetic normality of their own existence that they must project the appearance of immense wealth, both financially and culturally. The internet needs to know what colour bikini they were wearing when they visited Venice, and what kind of limo daddy rented for their prom night. As far they are concerned their very presence on Facebook (or other such social profile sites) does in fact lift the overall calibre of what was previously a gathering of filthy peasants.