Fake Assassins and Real Assholes – Facebook, YouTube, and Hugo Chavez

So, the MC has started Assassins for 2009.

For the uninitiated, Assassins is a game where you are assigned targets from the pool of participants to “kill” with an extended spoon or a projectile sock and our dorm gets pretty intense about it. Last year, I was killed in the first round. This year, my assignment was my roommate, Heathcliff. Figuring I had this in the bag, I waited for the perfect moment to strike…he had to go to the bathroom sometime.

Before the game officially started, but after our assignments were doled out, I jokingly talked about making an alliance with one of the freshmen. Let’s call him Angus. Angus initially refused but came back later asking for help in killing my good friend Chin Chin. Figuring I’d play both sides, I gave him some info on her schedule with the intention of alerting Chin Chin to the identity of her assassin. Then, I moved on with my plan to kill Heathcliff.

When Heathcliff asked me who my target was, I had to think fast and blurted out Angus. I figured Angus had gone to bed, so this would be a safe bet. Then, I tried to coax my unsuspecting roommate to go out and try to kill his target. I figured I’d be nice and let him get a kill in before I socked him. We enlisted the help of two girls across the hall to lure Heath’s target out with cookie dough.

When we opened the door, we found Angus standing there and eyeing the cookie dough. I froze. I didn’t know what to do. Heathcliff leaned in and whispered, “Kill him.” Damn it. If I didn’t approach Angus now, Heathcliff would know something was up.

Figuring I’d make it seem as sinister as possible, I walked toward Angus about to throw my arm over his shoulder to talk to him somewhere secluded. I hadn’t raised my arm an inch when he stabbed me in the chest with his spoon.

He’d been lying about Chin Chin.

Cursing up a storm at my stupidity, I made a spectacle in the hallway. I told Heathcliff that he’d been my target and he laughed, stepping out into the hallway and out of the immunity of our room. So I whispered into Angus’ ear who my target had been.

And that’s how Heathcliff died. And that’s how we both lasted about 15 minutes into this year’s Assassins.
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In other news, I’m never submitting any video or particularly exhausting work to Facebook again. And neither should you.

What the hell does Facebook want with our content anyway? This is ridiculous.

I’m starting to think it’s time to migrate from Facebook. If you are creating/know of/want to participate in the creation of a new social networking site that respects people’s privacy, relinquishes holds on user content, and doesn’t clutter up their design every few months, let me know, ASAP.

Congratulations, Mark Zuckerberg. You win today’s People Who Deserve a Special Place in Hell.

"I'd like to thank Microsoft, my advertisers, and Satan."

But the Massive Dickery hasn’t ended yet.

These are me and my friends putting on a show for last year’s good-clean-fun coffeehouse event:

This is part two. But you can’t hear our awful medley of songs. Why? Because Warner Music Grop decided that our 15-second use of Flossin’ by Mike Jones was an infrigement of copyright.

So that’s two of Generation Web’s darlings that are currently shitting on me and my projects.

Vimeo, anyone?
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In other other news, Hugo Chavez is one step closer to complete totalitarian rule by doing away with term limits so that he can rig elections as long as he wants. In related news, Fuck that Guy. I understand that people have temporarily benefited from his oil tactics, but oil won’t last forever. The system he’s establishing is no more sustainable than it was in the Soviet Union. And if he truly belives he’s doing some good that the people can get behind, why can’t somebody else carry out his vision? He’s a power-hungry tool and one day he’s going to get it.

40 more years! 40 more years!

I assume he doesn’t read this blog, otherwise I’d be marked.

That’s just so much douchebaggery that I have to leave something nice to get the bad taste out of my mouth.

Unfortunately, it comes from YouTube.