Wanna Cyber? part I

I'll be the first to admit that the world is filled to the brim with freaks of all shapes and sizes, and this societal trait seems to have amplified itself somehow across the internet.

Take, for instance, the crowd of people who decide to randomly contact Y! messenger users in search of some intimate cyber-chat.

Now, before anyone gets miffed at my singling out of Yahoo!'s chat service, let me just add that this is the only service to which I connect on which this has happened to me, and on several occasions.

It occurs to me that these people are just doing this to get hits to their internet pornstash, but this makes little sense to me. To pay a living, breathing human being to have cybersex with some random dude just to get a hit on your index.html page seems a bit extreme.

But then again, these chattersluts probably aren't getting paid a whole lot for their services, either. A typical conversation with one such individual might go something like this:

<i_luv_rape>hi there. 22/f/ca/36-24-36/47P43567QJ5X93K/O-/incredibly horny 4 u. wanna cyber?
<hotsoda>I'm at work
<i_luv_rape>u throw me up against the wall and start 2 caress my thighs
<hotsoda>I'm at work. I can't do this kind of stuff on the clock.
<i_luv_rape> i moan with delight.
<hotsoda>And besides, even if I wasn't on the clock, I've got more important things to do than have word sex with some stranger.
<i_luv_rape>oh yea. dont 4get my website. it makes me drip for u. http://www.goatsecx.nl/

I get the haunting feeling this individual isn't really looking for random acsii intimacy at all, which completely compromises the entire reason cybersex exists. Even more horrifically, deep within, I even have my doubts about the female-ness of i_luv_rape. This disturbs me further, that some random dude would IM another random dude and proceed to attempt to have cyberic relations as a pottymouthed woman with an unquenchable libido just to add an integer to his unique user count on his sub-par bestiality mirror.

I think his marketing dollars would be better spent helicoptering reams of flyers in front of his local adult bookstores and scampering away, hiding his face with the lapel of his trenchcoat.

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