If Scott gets a weekly series, then I get one, too. Welcome to MySpace Hottie of the Week, where I’ll feature only the hottest and most interesting people from MySpace.com, the most popular social-network/stalker-aider/pedophile-helper thingie on the ‘Net. The purpose of this feature is not to mock or scorn, but to point out the painfully helpless and shed some light on the harsh realities of their situations. Allow me to be your guide as we navigate the millions of corridors of the land we call MySpace.

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Episode 1: Tonya Berry

Highlights: Our first hottie hails from lovely Columbus, Ohio. She’s 34, and she somehow found a man willing to marry her.

“Chances are, I am the weirdest, craziest, wildest Christian you will ever meet. I have a hubby I’ve been married to for almost 15 years, and an adopted son who just turned 20,” she says. Hold up a second! I can buy the getting married at 19 thing, which isn’t all that weird, but if your son just turned 20, that means you adopted him when you were 14! Illegal! For a Christian woman, you lie like a muhfukka.

Moving on… “My favorite bands are the ones that rock and glorify Christ at the same time. Currently I’m stuck on Me Without You, however Christian speed metal like The Crucified, Mortification and Metanoia are my favorite. In the past, I’ve been a youth leader and a DJ at a Christian rock station.” Again with the lies. Everyone knows rock music - especially speed metal - is a tool of Satan. “Christian rock” is an oxymoron.

Buried amongst all the stupid videos and stupid “What kind of ____ are you?” bullshit, we find this out about our hottie:

You’re a sophisticated woman with big city taste.
You have a strong creative force - even if you don’t wear the boldest clothes.
You tend to intimidate people. But the right guy won’t be intimidated by you!

Designer match: Dolce & Gabbana

Signature accessory: Gold framed sunglasses

Bullshit you are! 1) You’re not sophisticated. You’re a bland WASP from the Midwest. 2) You think you’re creative, but you’re not. (More on this in a bit). 3) Professional wrestlers are intimidating. Football players are intimidating. Satan is intimidating. You ain’t intimidating to shit. 4) They don’t sell D&G merch at Kmart.

Now for my favorite parts:

“MacDonalds [sic] or Burger King: Burger King (MacDonalds [sic] supports abortion)”

Fuck that shit. I’ll take some Mickey-D’s Fetus Fries over a Whopper Jr. any day of the week.

“Do you belive [sic] in yourself: Sorta but the Word says I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”

All Christ has done is make you fat, ugly, and boring. Sorry, dear. Maybe you should give Buddhism a try.

Lastly, check this poem Tonya wrote. I won’t reproduce the entire thing here, but I will highlight the best parts.

“Oh, snap, it’s 4:20″ Maybe she’s not so lame after all. Loves the weed.

“[A]nd my God has plenty / [F]or me as I inhale His presence” Oh. It was a metaphor. Never mind.

“[A]nd He says, ‘No, YOU! YOU are lovely, my darling, my dove! / Come on, be intoxicated with my love!’” No, my dove. You’re far from lovely. And enough with the drug/alcohol metaphors.

“[A]nd today, my fountain / [F]lows like a clear, crystal mountain!” Mountains are neither clear nor made of crystal. Nor do they flow. But they can be intimidating.

Jesus, this girl is giving me a headache. Check out the rest of the hilarity for yourselves. I’m gonna go smoke some God presence.

So I was at a show this week and the opener was an foreign indie act with an obscure, over-looked genius rep. Now I don’t know their records at all and they run with bands I do like, but I was dramatically under-whelmed. All the songs sounded essentially the same, they were performed with the same “dramatic” gimmicks throughout and the bass player kept trying to wander off the stage for some reason. The mixed crowd was notably unimpressed, save for a couple really trying-too-hard hipsters, but here’s the thing, they weren’t a “bad” band, but something was off, in fact i think i could have “fixed” them if they were willing to cede absolute creative control to me for say 6 months. Effing bouncher refused to pass along my card.

Anyways it made me pick up my new project: releasing imaginary albums. I may not be the musician those guys are, which frankly means I really suck, but I’m sick of that stopping my rock ’n’ roll dreams. Here’s my first one…

Indiscriminate Eastern European Accent

“The Feast of Maximum Occupancy” — Ancient seaside march that stumbles carelessly along before passing out on the steps of its derelict shanty. The stylistically incongruous “fake” opener.

“Fuzzy at Best” — Ironic power litany for your best friend’s ex. The girl you can’t get over is probably the one you can’t too well remember.

“Dip My Toe In and See (Hey Now)” — Unnecessarily distorted blues innuendo. Dirty filth? Or lazy nonsense? We’ll let the RIAA decide.

“Seen This One Before” — Taunt, slashing break-up pop. A bouncy kiss-off for everybody who’s ever spent hours in a Blockbuster arguing over whose turn it is to pick the evening’s rental.

“Closing The West” — Empty-saloon piano sorrow for a changing world. How can there be any more cowboys if there ain’t no more Indians?

“Mailer Damien” — Thankfully brief psychedelic-electronica interlude. More backwards effects than a “Twin Peaks” dream sequence.

“Punch In” — Shuttering anti-shit job manifesto. Crammed with bile and stabbed keyboard flares, pays more than a little respect to EC. Handclaps abound.

“Robot Abe Lincoln” — Close-up the lake house and get ready to cry. Works out the frustrations of autumn and the failure to do great things. Warm guitar buzz scratches like an old wool sweater.

“Still So Shallow” — Ramped-up Stones boogie drifts off to Mars as a bitter bastard turns 27 and wonders if life’s ever gonna start.

p.s. — are you a real or fake band looking to have a decidedly fake album produced by me??? Send an email and keep your eyes peeled for more upcoming releases from Barbicide Records.

It might be seven; I dunno. Anyway, I’ve decided to quit smoking again, this time hopefully for good. I’m pretty sure the problem has been that my friends aren’t supporting me enough, because this should be easy. I think some of them are tacitly encouraging me to keep smoking. They think that if I smell all smelly, it makes them smell better by comparison, and then the opposite sex is more attracted to their smell. It’s a pretty clever ploy when you think about it, but now that I’ve figured it out, hopefully they’ll stop and join my side again.

Exodus Update: I’m setting my date of departure at October 31, 2006. That’s very ambitious, but I think I can pull it off. If only I had somewhere to go… People keep telling me to move to Chicago. Where do you think I should go?

Bam, fool! I return in a cloud of smoke!

Where was I? Where the hell were you, man? Get your story together before you start throwing rocks, you glass-house-dwelling jag-off.

Uh that’s right I say, jag-off now. Oh kids, I could say I missed the Internet, but that would be a lie. I wish this fading fad would pass already. I hope your cat took some cute pictures of your newborn or vice versa cause I can’t wait to mosey over to Flicka and view those priceless little turds.

What you have something really original to say about Mel Gibson? Sigh. I really don’t need to watch your mash-up of “braveheart” and the stay out of malibu scene in “big lebowski,” I get it. I’m so sick of doubting whether celebrities have had the babies they claim and predicting BOs, it’s made me weary before my time, kids. If I didn’t need the information superhighway to fetch me the new Hold Steady record and the Venture Brother episodes I missed, I’d happily bring the whole thing down, Jenga style, by pulling this blog out of the tower.

I bought a new computer over the weekend and am depressed to come home to see the same white keyboard I stare all day in front of me. I pretend to write professionally and wonder if I need another hobby. Actually I keep telling myself I’m getting a typewriter. any thing to keep me away from the wiki-black hole. I probably wait to I lose my hair and can really pull off the smug Luddite prick thing. Oh dang-dabbit and horsefeathers!

I could make promises about how we’re gonna start doing more than posting ifilm movies but that would be a lie. Every week I get an envelope from Nick Denton with a newly minted nickel that demands I keep getting those up and poppa needs his bubble gum, dudes and dudettes (the OkGo treadmill thing is kinda sweet, though).

My older brother maintained for years his friend Sean (Tiz) invented the word “dudette” one day in the Monteith Elementary School lunchroom. I wish my world were small enough that I could still believe that.

Bam! And like that he’s gone.

What a crafty bunch those pirates are.