YOU’D THINK that publishing your sexual preferences, address, mobile number, and philosophies would be an open invite for stalkers to stand outside your window crying and posting body matter through your letterbox. But perhaps you’re wrong. This being the space year 2006, social recluses and self-loathing bed-sit dwellers have for a long time been expressing emotion and reaching out to people via the affable mask of the internets. Sites such as ‘facebook’ and ‘myspace,’ have long offered an undying link back to mother’s teat. How else am I meant to find terrorists? Or that Martin used to model lingerie for the Next catalogue? Or perhaps that Starbuck’s mother is the Vicereine of India and that he wishes his parents would spend more time in this country? Oh look, Matt’s also got some pictures of him holding a semi-conscious girl down on a bed.
Rumours have recently emerged though that someone from campus has made friends with someone from their course ‘just like that’. As is commonplace with a technological breakthrough of this size, idiots do however encounter some teething problems. We have already seen the case of special Rare FM DJ Adam Freedman being presented with a restraining order for ‘poking’ ex-Pi editor Holly Falconer in the Phineas Bar. One exciting aspect of this new idea is that of ‘glotticising’ the keys one would normally stab into the laptop keyboard as one sits in bed weeping and eating Sara Lee chocolate puddings. This involves moving the slab of flesh in your mouth, normally reserved for shovelling food, to produce what are known as ‘phonemes’ which when strung together can create sentences During the next few weeks then, please don’t be surprised if you see swathes of lithe beauties outside Flat 1 on 18 Tavistock Place wailing after Jim Hunkin, who promises that he’s ‘conservative and damn sexy…’