Dear Next Generation Internet Model


Let’s be real here. The internet has ruined a few things. It was designed to be a tool to help information spread around the world, but in the process of creating such a virtual Highway, a bevy, a literal plethora of other important aspects of humanity have been trampled.

Two things the internet surely altered beyond immediate repair are the music industry and the modeling industry. Back in the day there were very few lanes for music and provocative photography to travel mainstream-ly. Subsequently what that did was force amateurs to be as professional and accurate as possible because they’d contending with legitimate competition. (No matter what field you’re referring to, this applies.) What the internet did, though, was level the playing field almost to the point that it is now concave. It doesn’t matter how good or bad you look or sound…all that matters is how hard you hustle.

In steps the internet model.

3fe3341f-d63d-4a63-aa2a-dbc2e6902b07.13045789_503730536480558_364362310_n.mp4 The internet model is a savvy, digital hustler who has probably been watching various sorts of get money schemes her entire life, kinda like a real-life elective class. The moment she realized men will pay to look at her jiggle her wigglies, it was on and cracking, as the young people say.

The first generation internet models were basically strippers and pornstars and magazine models, so they were already ahead of the game as far as financing their sexual services. They monetized man’s fantasies before the dot com era and are the trailblazers of the avenues created for today’s thots and rats to shake their way into our collective hearts. And sometimes, pants.

But here’s the thing…

The internet model game has exploded over the past couple of years. For the most part, any girl — and I do pretty much mean any — with viable breasts and a sizable butt feels a need to force her figure upon our non-judgemental screens.

(Not that I’m complaining. God bless lascivity. Hell, if I were born a woman, I’m pretty sure that not only would I be a whore, but I’d probably have dozens of children by dozens of different men. My proclivity for promiscuity would know no bounds. And thusly so, I would also probably be rich. Which brings me back to the next generation of Internet models.)

I definitely understand the hustle. The hustle, however, has become saturated and it seems that the players are becoming somewhat lazy. This is coming from a veteran creep an aficionado. I spend countless minutes, no, probably hours looking at women online throughout the week. This is not counting weekends, where sometimes I go extra hard to make up for moments lost amidst the work week. All of this gives me the authority to say the following…

Dear next generation Internet models, I need you to buy better cameras. I can’t enjoy your work if I’m squinting because if it’s too fuzzy, it’s like masturbating to a memory. That defeats the purpose. I know you get PayPal money, because I see your registration to all the gift websites in your bio. Take a small portion from your weave fund and upgrade that phone. Your dedicated fans, and even the non-paying ones demand it. I should be able to see stretch marks without giving myself a headache.

I also noticed this next generation of Internet model isn’t concerned with their facial appearance. And I say this with all due respect. I mean, they know we’re tuning in to check out assets so the fact that their face may be a liability doesn’t seem to come into the equation. Ladies, I’m here to tell you that it does come into the equation. Granted, I’m here to see your ass talent, but have the common decency to throw on some lipstick. At least some lip gloss. Put your hair in a ponytail for Hugh Hefner’s sake. Don’t just show up to the party and jump in front of the camera like your fresh off of a power nap. Because even though I don’t know you, in my mind, you are my girlfriend for the next however many minutes. The least you could do is look presentable while I’m visiting. Keep it classy, ladies. Please.

And, if I may say this without sounding harsh, if you know you aren’t that attractive yet feel the incessant need to pursue a career as an internet model, act accordingly. Seriously. There’s really no reason to smile all up in the camera if you don’t have the type of face that belongs all up in the camera, especially when that’s not the reason the people came. (You see what I did there?) Some of these women have bodies like goddesses but faces like the grill of a Honda Odyssey and either dont think we’ll notice or couldn’t care less.

This attitude seems to be a growing trend.

The fact that I’m not that easy on the eyes will be overlooked by the amount of cake and ice cream I supplied the party with.

Maybe, maybe not, but why even take that chance?

All I’m asking, next generation Internet model, is that you keep it real with yourself and in that process you will be, in essence, keeping it real with me as well. That’s the easiest way to achieve social harmony.

And just as an afterthought, if you know your asscheeks a full of scars, acne marks, knife wounds, and bullet holes, the outfit you’re wearing on camera needs to be A-plus. Top Notch. Because stretch marks are sexy. Tiger stripes of milfy experience. They are indicative of maturity, growth. Bullet scars and knife-caused keloids, however, are indicative of danger and the possibility of harm or injury. Keep these things in mind, for future reference. The same theory applies to your background scenery. Your ice cream and cake is only as yummy as the bathroom mirror is clean.

Next generation Internet model, this comes not from a place of criticism or complaint, but from a location of love. Computer love, word to Roger Troutman.

Words by Tony Grands

Facebook Is Out To Destroy Humanity One User At A Time


As if you need more reasons to trust the Internet less.

I have only been an avid, active user on FB (that’s what the cool kids call it) for a handful of years. But over those years I’ve seen it evolve from a user-friendly hub of hodgepodge to an evil, sentient cyborg whose endgame is to ultimately capture you and hold you indefinitely hostage. Not just you, though. EVERY HUMAN ON EARTH.

All this time we’ve been looking toward Google to be the onset of a real-life Terminator scenario. Who knew that Facebook was indeed a much more sinister being?


Yes, being.

Facebook, much like Google, can think and make decisions unbeknownst to the average user. These “thoughts” are disguised under colorful verbiage, but if you’re able to hack away at the slithery syntax and whittle down the technical blather, in laymen’s terms, you’ll notice that Facebook already has an impressive array of artifical intelligence. Terms like “analytics” and “algorithims” are set in motion to keep the common man from committing suicide out of fear that the digital sky is falling. With all due respect; Facebook is a bodiless digital monster and if you have an account, you’ve already set it free in your life.

Facebook seems to have the incessant need to be all things to all people. That’s always a red flag. Like Antichrist red flag. Text, email, phone calls, private messages, personal journal, search engine, photo album, not to mention all the the other auxiliary functions (like creating pages to potentially start hate groups or cyber sex crime rings). That spells “doom” in a “you’ve been kidnapped” type of way. That makes it look like FB is on a mission to trap you in a corner and keep you there, making you and everyone else fully dependant on it for your thriving social survival.

Facebook also seems hellbent on ruining your real-world relationships. It uses its algorithms to keep you and your friends so deeply intertwined online that there becomes no need to hang out IRL. No bullshit; I went to a family gathering a year ago and we – collectively – had nothing to talk about. 45 grown folks painfully stretching minimal small talk to the outermost limit. Any familial announcement was greeted with a “Yeah, I saw it on FB,” to the point that eventually we all just sat around talking about Facebook.

And let us not overlook all the chaos and drama that it sparks. Stalkers, ex-lovers, paper servers, bill collectors…if someone is truly looking for you, it’s not hard to find you. Even with over 1 billion users, chances are your name is less common than you think.


Watch ya cyberback, bruhz

And people have gotten killed behind Facebook foolery. Twitter, too, but mostly Facebook.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention all the good that Facebook does. It reconnects lost loved ones, plays important roles in social awareness, spreads messages quicker than any other digital platform, and truly has united humanity for better or worse. In other words, it’s not a total clusterfuck, but time is still ticking and the case isn’t closed yet.

Inherently, I don’t trust Black men without mustaches and White men with too much money. Today, I add Facebook to that roll call.

Fuck you, FB. The revolution will not be televised. (Although it will be tweeted, reposted, shared, vined, updated, snapped, uploaded, reblogged, and streamed.)

Words by Tony Grands
Follow on Twitter here