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FakeSpace, or, men will believe anything

About five years ago when I was on MySpace I decided, as a joke, to put up a fake “Hot Chick” profile. Keep in mind it was a joke and I have no interest in doing this ever again. Call it a Sociological experiment.

The only photo in the profile was a black and white shot of cleavage and a very obvious watermark in the right corner of the photo that indicated the photo was a copyrighted image. Her profile had no words in it, just tacky, giant glitter graphics that said things like “I love horses!” and “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me.” The background was pink, which made the entire page look like glittery Pepto Bismol with boobs.

The girl was 22 years old and her name was Healea McHooterson. Within two days of the profile coming up, she generated hundreds of friends. Healea I would leave glittery comments that said things like “Thanks for the add, sweetie!”

During this time, it was really easy to tell who the local hornytoads were. I’d get “hello” messages from guys who had great jobs, listened to interesting music, read books of inspiring authors. One guy who appeared like your everyday average geek sent Healea a message with the subject line “Free cock rides.” He had no problem telling Healea the size of his penis and what he could provide. For free.

Another guy, who claimed to be an IT professional and graphic artist, was extremely surprised that there was a watermark right there at the right corner of the photo. One guy who obviously had a girlfriend thought he was developing a serious relationship with Ms. McHooterson. It was an open invitation to cat-calling and buffoonery.

Those moments were pretty funny, but then it got scary. Healea got a message from someone who said “If I could be anywhere at this moment I’d be with you.” When Healea called this man on it, he admitted that he was only 11 years old. Immediately my maternal instinct kicked in and I told him NOT to talk to strangers on the Internet and I asked where his parents were. I told him for all he knew I could have been a murderer. “You’re too pretty to be a murderer!”, he wrote. I was very sad and couldn’t believe this child’s parents were nowhere in the picture.

After Healea neared about 600 friends – many of them underage boys – I disabled the account, very disturbed with what I found. These were the days when Pornbots were just starting up, men were falling for anything and men said things to strange women that they’d never say in front of their own mothers, sisters or wives. I also quickly learned that girls with tits and no brains get one hell of a lot more attention – mostly unwanted – than people like me.

Looking back on it, I probably could have convinced all those guys to check Healea out on her “cam.” I probably could have paid off my student loan.

But also, this was the day before that famous mother put up a fake myspace profile that contributed to a teen girl’s suicide. There was a lot we didn’t know then.

But something tells me in the back of my mind that there are still 11-year-old kids trying to talk to beautiful, busty women online. It scares me.

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