Greetings from My Space

I'm writing this from the MySpace Internet Cafe. There is plenty of internet, but no cafe. I want to take all of these emotastic little boys and put them in my pocket and take them home and put them in a cage. Those cuties, with their spikey belts and their myspace hair and their capri jeans and their lumberjack shirts that are three sizes too small.

All for the love of one Miss Mary Abraham. If I was a 15 year old emo kid right now, this would be my haven. No panic at this disco.