Friday, March 26, 2010

Chatroulette, A Dead Fish, and A Lot of Sweaty Dick (Slightly NSFW Because I Was Too Lazy to Censor My Screenshots)

The only entertainment the roomies and I can really afford is the free kind, so any internet-based phenomenon is fair game on a Saturday night, especially if the experience can be enhanced by alcohol consumption (because we’re more likely to spend our hard-earned money on booze than food).

So, a few weeks ago, I was sitting at work reading Zoomdoggle (as usual) and happened to see a post about a website called Chatroulette.

Okay, 17-year-old Russian creator of Chatroulette. You win. Because it is the Best. Website. Ever. And I’m basically suicidal over it, because somehow I didn’t think of it first. And it KILLS ME.

The only thing keeping me from offing myself over my failings as an internet entrepreneur (preferably in a dramatic manner involving chainsaws and cottage cheese) is the sheer amount of fun I’m having on Chatroulette. Like, really. And if you don’t know what Chatroulette is, I’m mentally slapping you right now for living under a rock that isn’t Wi-Fi equipped. Because good lord, you are missing out!

Basically, you get onto Chatroulette, it connects with your webcam, and then you talk to other people on their webcams. If you don’t like what you see, you just click the “Next” button and move on to another webcam.

But there are some things you should know before you get started.

First, half the people on Chatroulette are sitting around like assholes waiting to be entertained. Then a whole fuckload of dudes are poised in front of their PCs with their cocks hanging out, furiously masturbating (to what, I wonder? The disgusted look on people’s faces? My smiling countenance as I yell, “You’re SO TINY!” into the microphone before I press “next”?). And then, there is the small but awesome percentage of people who are on Chatroulette to do something creative. You really want to be in the last group – your time on Chatroulette will be much more gratifying!

(Also, I think Chatroulette is much more rewarding a group setting. You usually whisk right by the sad dudes sitting alone in their rooms. But I always give groups of people the benefit of the doubt.)

Well, I wasn’t about to sit around all night and wave to naked guys. Instead, I pulled Sir Fitzwilliam FrankenFish down from his perch and commenced unusual online activities!

The roomies and I set YouTube to play the Jaws theme song, and started hitting next. The following is a description of what a typical viewer experienced.

The Setting: The empty living room of an apartment.

The Sounds: The Jaws theme song growing louder.

The Story: A toothy fish head emerges from the lower corner of the screen. It “swims” across the shot, and then towards the webcam…

Well, our antics were astoundingly well received. As in, people were fucking laughing their asses off. As well as offering alcohol to my taxidermied piranha, pretending to fish for it, screaming, pulling out available stuffed animals for comparison, etc.

But you can see for yourself. Because we fucking documented that shit!

I think the most important characteristic of our little Chatroulette spiel is that no one, in the fucking universe, expects to see a hideous dead fish upon pressing the “Next” button. Yes, you see masks. And cocks. And signs saying “Show us your titties”. But not tacky taxidermy.

[First, there were other pranksters.]

[Then there was cock. And cock. And more cock. So I’m only including one cock picture.]

[And space aliens.]

[And dumb bitches at slumber parties. Umm, is the chick with the soda can curlers trying to be Lady Gaga’s uglier little sister from the Telephone video? Because we all know how I feel about that.]

[And terrified dudes.]

[Some people even got so excited that they grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and joined in.]

[Some people wanted to fight Sir FrankenFish. But lost because they’re lame.]

[And some people inspired Sir FrankenFish to come out and talk about his sexuality. You see, he is attracted to lobsters. But the other creatures in the river in South America where he came from aren’t very accepting of his preferences.]

When the roomies and I first began, we naively set the goal of getting a screenshot of Sir FrankenFish with a dick. Well, that goal was met. Many, many times.

We need a new goal.

As a matter of fact, I think this could make an excellent drinking game – take a swig every time you see a cock!



I’m not sure I want alcohol poisoning.

P.S. This post is dedicated to Turco for the following Facebook comment:

P.S.S. Baby Grey is a very slutty feline that lives with Turco and The Boyfriend.

P.S.S.S I also realize he was refering to taking pictures, not alcoholic shots. But I have booze on the mind. As I do. Everyday.

P.S.S.S.S Plus cats eat fish. Although I’m fairly certain piranhas would be able to eat a cat. But a fishy alcoholic drink would be appealing to a cat, right?

P.S.S.S.S.S Yes. I’m shutting up now.

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