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MySpace is for losers like infobiztechporn. but shredded. I am the resurrection geekspunktalk: so it's like this but less refined; this, this and this; this too; a whole load of jerry-built, ill-informed and welded-on this; oh and this was scrwd on like this as well. This poshoboy wanted some. Hard. And so did these charlies. These milkshakes came to the yard, then wouldn't quit following us round. And its all been taken to Cockington and beaten about the head with a big stick. Of course it's parasITic. We call it technosurreal. Non-generative digiScrtch my bytes: billy dot pontiac at hotmail dot co uk cloud:

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digiSelf obsession reaches delusional stage, as narcissus.me emerges from deadpool

With a reverse ripple as the water sighed with lust and incredulity that such beauty could want to leave its slick bosom, the mythoSexgod Narcissus updived from the golden reflecting pool he had temporarily fallen into, to banish a generation’s woe at the ugliness of their lives. And make goldenpots too.

‘Darlings, my darlings,’ he declaimed to waiting flashpop wielders on the liquid lip this sunrise, ‘we do not have to stand this. No longer must our world revolve around other people. By giving me all your loving at narcissus.me, it can revolve around me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me … Somebody? Anybody? OK I’ll do it myself.’ He then proceeded to perform a selflove act. Everybody made an excuse and stayed.

Said a panGreco expertologist linked to the scene via mediatart, ‘Narcy boy is Narcy boy. What can you do? When I had him in the back of my cab once, well… sorry, I might need to perform a selflove act now too.’

Narcissus.me will debut on Bubbadaq at tuppence a share.