The internet is the best thing ever, it means I haven’t paid for a record in two years, I’ve seen a man do it with a horse, I can order Valium without a prescription (hey Pfizer’s Spotify advert guy: no one cuts anything with rat poison! Why would they want to kill their customers!?!) and it is my primary source of income (I work for Platform, dummy).

But I guess there are things that sometimes make me wish computers weren’t connected to each other, they’ve been bugging me for a while so I’ve written about six of them below:

Fan Videos
It sucks that all the record labels have made it so you can’t embed their videos on blogs or websites anymore (can anyone explain why it’s bad for people to see it on a blog but not bad if they see it on Youtube?). But I’d rather just do a screenshot and a link than have one of those videos some teenager in Ontario made with his buddies for a school project. It’s funny to watch a pock marked, moody goth walk down a suburban street and mime a conversation with a fat girl wearing a Kermit the Frog backpack, but I want to watch the original video of 1979 by the Smashing Pumpkins because it reminds me of my own adolescent angst, and I have no desire to see yours, because mine was bad enough.

Internet Commenters
OK dickheads, let’s finish this. Some of us went to private school, we all live in east London except Lizzie (and fucking hell do we give her a hard time about it), sometimes things on here are funny to some people and not to others, I am really pale, I’m pretty sure Secret Diary Boy is real and sometimes we get facts wrong. What else have you got?

Remember the end of 8 Mile? That’s what just happened to you.

I love porn so much, and not only do I love it, but I believe in it like christians believe Jesus is real. The problem this causes is that I constantly expect WAY TO MUCH (in the sexually adventurous sense of those words) from people in real life, and end up getting punched in the face for suggesting their best friend join in or they let me do a2m with them (look it up). Also, sometimes I try to beat it without the interweb’s help and I can’t think of anything. Porn killed my imagination.

Is there anything more depressing than logging into your old myspace account? Maybe a death in the family, but even then it might be an uncle you never hung out with, and therefore less heartbreaking than reading messages from bots and comments from peoples’ hacked profiles that litter this relic of bad hair and bulletins like tumbleweed in a ghost town. Poor old Tom. Here’s where he went wrong:

1)   The friends list always in the order of people who joined myspace, not in alphabetical order, so you could never find anyone.
2)   The search function was way to sensitive.
3)   Pages took too long to load.
4)   Hmtl is for nerds.
5)   Photobucket is a bore.

Girls getting all up in my grill, yo
I am friends with all my exes ever on facebook (with the exception of Gemma Thomas, my girlfriend from when I was 7 at primary school - bitch won’t accept me, she probs never got over it). Most are so long gone that I don’t care about it at all: two of them are married, one is engaged and one became the kind of Christian that protests outside abortion clinics, but recent exes on facebook are the bane of my life. It’s not like deleting them makes a difference, if they’ve been around for a while they’ll be talking to my friends and it’ll come up on my feed and I’ll have to see pictures of them having fun, and that’s obviously the last thing I want them to be doing.

You can’t listen to the basics like Beatles, the adverts are NOT catered for different genres of music (I spent all of last night listening to Megadeth and all I got was Robbie Williams album commercials), we should be able to search playlists without going on shitty websites and there’s no decent way of cataloguing your favourite albums without clogging up the playlist bar. AND what about how I just spent 15 years and at thousands of pounds amassing the best fucking record collection of all time to set myself apart from the plebs, and now all the dickheads in the world can listen to everything whenever they want? FUCK that shit.