Hate It: Chatroulette

In theory, Chatroulette is one of the best things ever dreamed up for the Internet. You come home, you’re bored, and within seconds there’s a whole world of excited cyber-friends just itching to chat you up. Yeah, right.

The two times I’ve logged into the bootleg Web site, I didn’t exactly land on people interested in sharing a meaningful, late-night chat (that is, the few times I was lucky enough to get people on the other end and not just full-screen close-ups of some very excited parts of the male anatomy).

I mean, come on fellow Chatrouletters. No, I do not want to see some greasy wife-beater-wearing man-animal playing with himself every third time I press the “Next” button. No, I do not want to get paired up with some prepubescent munchkin who claims that he happens to go to Harvard, too.

And no, I definitely don’t want to see that kid from section smirking at me from his MacBook (yeah, I saw YOU, Harvard...).

What’s worse, if by some miracle you make it far enough through the deluge of wasted college kids begging you to rip off your shirt and squealing middle-school girls to find someone that’s actually worth vid-chatting, he’ll probably “Next” you as soon as you reject his strip poker e-vite.

Or worse, he doesn’t even give you a strip poker e-vite.

OMG. I’m not cute enough for Chatroulette? FML.

Chatting online with strangers is only ever one of two things: creepy or demoralizing. Remember when you deleted your MySpace account circa sixth grade because you started getting friend requests from SeXaayGuy69 and LetzCyber4ever? That’s the same reason we should all just close the Chatroulette tab for good.