I Get Quite a Bit of Face Out in Space
In the town of Spacefaceville, you can spread your thoughts via a chain letter-like conglomeration of “friends”. There is no limit or restraint on the number or type of people whose space you can invade with your face. Before you can start hoarding faces, you have to either successfully “request” a friendship or accept a request to have your space invaded by another face. Once your request is accepted, or you accept a request, your space for faces will start to fill up quicker than a frat boy pouring hooch into a cooler - or so I have been told. A large percentage of faces you will add to your space are faces you’ve known for a long time. You’ve got your high school classmate face, college classmate face, co-worker face, family face, and the ever popular long lost friend face. Those are all good forms of faces to keep in your space. For me, it’s the anonymous/unknown faces requesting space that are the strangest.
On the average, I get about three requests a week for space from faces I’ve never met in high or low places. I have less of an idea who these faces are, and how they know my face than a drunkard knows where the vomit stain on his pant leg came from. When it comes to accepting or denying a face’s request for space, I have a hard time saying no. My theory is, expose as many spaces and faces to my nuttiness as spaces will allow. I’m taking over cyberspace one face at a time. Before you know it, websites will have more metaphors than something they can be compared to. Run-on sentences will become the Norm, instead of the Cliff, because it will be easier to express one’s face out in space without observing the laws of “grammar” and “punctuation” - even though it may be tough to determine where one thought begins, and when your patience with the sentence ends.
One of the most interesting things about accepting unknown faces from space is the post-acceptance attempt to figure out who in the hell this person is. This is usually accomplished by staring at their face when you’re on your space. It’s kinda like staring at a face in an effort to determine if that porn stache-having, rain coat-wearin’, coke bottle glasses-havin’ weirdo who rents the basement across the street is the face you saw on that Wanted poster at the post office. As a sidecar, I’ve always wondered why wanted posters are hung up all over post offices? Do people on the run regularly check their mail? Do fugitives have responses to fan mail they’ve just got to get out before crossing another state’s line? I’d think it would be more productive to put fugitives’ pictures in porn shops, bowling alleys, and Chuck E. Cheese. You could also probably catch a whole mess of ‘em if you ran the fingerprints of all carnival and fair migrants who come to town. You’d also be able to tell the difference between a midget and a dwarf based on this analysis. That is, of course, as long as the corn dog residue build-up doesn’t skew the results. You’d be amazed at the build-up of corn dog grease that will collect under the fingernails of a true believer in the “Guess Your Weight” lifestyle.
I tell you this, I wished I had known this face that’s always on the right side of my space floggin’ Snorgtees in my pre-married years. I seriously doubt a face like that would have ever allowed me into her space, but you can always dream. You catch that? I nude you wood. Whoever came up with the idea of trading faces to all kinds of different spaces is the Larry Flynt of cyber socializing – like Larry, someone took a lot of faces and showed their spaces. There it was again. I’m the Kevin Nealon of subliminal sexual innuendo. If you don’t get it, there is no need to jump out the window. So, I guess my face enjoys sharing space with other faces, because I seem to devote a lot of time to my space. Once you get started, collecting faces for your space is more addictive than masturbating. Seriously, who has only done it once?
