"Yeah, pretty much," I said.
"Who the hell is Tom?" he asked. "Is he like everyone's friend?"
"I think Tom's the owner or founder of MySpace," I told him. "Everyone is automatically Tom's friend. I delisted that fucker immediately."
"Really?" Charlie said with mock surprise, "But Tom seems like such a nice guy!"
"Tom's a friend list whore," I muttered. "Okay, now bring up MrsVeteran so you can friend me."
Charlie attempted a search for Mrs. Veteran in the MySpace search box. I looked over at the search results page that appeared to have almost, but not quite, entirely no resemblance whatsoever to his search terms.
"No, no, put it in the address bar of your browser," I told him. "www.myspace.com slash mrsveteran. Pull it up that way."
He gazed helplessly at the screen full of shiny, leaping things. "But, but," he protested, "Then I'd lose this!" he waved at his profile page.
"Oh, okay, first you have to pick a MySpace name so you can come back to here," I said. "Click here where it says 'click here to create your MySpace name'."
"Oh that?" he said, reaching for the mouse. "I thought that was an ad. Everything on here looks like an ad."
"Just click it."
"Okay, now pick a username."
He attempted his real name. "Sorry, that username has been taken! Please try another."
He attempted "grandpoobah." As I told him, that one was also taken.
Oddly, "isthisfuckingtaken" turned out to, indeed, be taken. (M/22/AU)
I left for awhile to come back and find Charlie glaring at the screen and typing "threepoundcockandtrustfund" into the box. Sadly, that was too many letters, and "threepoundcockandtrustfu," while sounding like an unusual and esoteric martial art of some kind, wasn't acceptable. He changed the "three" to a number 3, and then said, "No, I can't do that," and sat back.
"Hm, yeah," I agreed, "Might be hard to explain to the nieces and nephews about how you enjoy raising roosters for a hobby while practicing Trust Fu on the side."
After some time, he decided that settling for a MySpace name with no innuendo, obscenities, or other interesting things would probably be for the best, although I was a bit wistful that he'd decided to abandon Trust Fu. He also abandoned poor Tom, his very first MySpace friend. Well, you know how it is: you grow and you move on, and sometimes, you must leave some behind. (Let us all shed a tear for poor Tom, now bereft of Charlie's friendship.)
And thus it was that Charlie was dragged, kicking and screaming, into the chaos that is MySpace. It's something that seems to run in his side of the family. I hope it's not genetic.