It is now 2 a.m. I am in bed with the flu, bored, tired, and sick. Worst of all, I have run out of episodes of “Arrested Development” to watch and there is nothing good on television. This kind of situation means only one thing; the time has come to start browsing myspace.

As any self-respecting college student knows, myspace.com is a web site to “view profiles, connect with others, blog, rank music, and much more!” as stated on the homepage. Created by the mysterious automatic-friend Tom, myspace quickly becomes the addiction you never planned on submitting to. It is worse than Facebook, because it is global and there is nothing more fun than stalking on a worldwide basis.

First, I must say in my defense that I joined myspace as a means of checking out new bands and never bothered to create a real profile. But on a night spent avoiding studying in the library, I succumbed to peer pressure and created a real, honest to God profile, complete with an emo picture and oh-so-witty interests. That is when myspace took over a good portion of my college career.

At first, it was innocent enough. I found all of my friends and we began leaving cute little messages on each other’s comment walls. I continued to search for new and interesting bands, but now had the added benefit of being able to show off my musical prowess by putting their songs on my profile. It was fun! It was entertaining! It was addictive to say the absolute least. But then, the messages started to pour in.

They were silly at first. Some were from marines in Jacksonville looking for a good time in Wilmington. Others were men whose pictures bared a striking resemblance to my 60-year-old father (okay, that wasn’t so silly.) Then came the messages with lewd suggestions about my picture and telling me my eyes “were to die for.” The following is an example of a message I received just this very night:

“hey ma whats up? I saw your profile and wanted to say hey, and that you are a cutie 😀 Just bored, tryin to meet ppl in the area, so if u want, holla at me mami, I would love to talk to you!”

I must admit that I truly believe a part of me has brought this on myself. I very rarely, if ever, respond to these kind of messages and find nothing more annoying than being “friended” by a person that knows nothing of who I am. And with the recent expose done on myspace and how it is a breeding ground for pedophiles, well, I must say that then concept is losing its luster. Still, the truth is that hours of my life disappear on this tool for “connecting with others.” I have become savvy at keeping up with my friends through changes in their profiles and will openly admit that is a great, non-intrusive way to see what exes are doing with their lives. So what is the point, you may ask, of this obvious rant?

Only this; those who use myspace with the intention of tracking down a one-night-stand or engaging in some sort of socially acceptable pick-up tactics need to move on. The site of course, has its benefits and I will continue being able to enjoy bonding with my friends and adding bands to my friend list who will never know I exist. Will I be deleting my account any time soon? Hell no I won’t. But I also won’t be responding to a single message that reads like this:

“What’s up hottie? you should come to Fayetteville and show me how bad you are. lol”

Hmm, it’s 2:30 a.m…. Maybe Cartoon Network is showing a re-run of the Family Guy so I can log off. Or maybe not.