What might get worse, actually seems to get better!
I’m back with another series of horrific stories from ChatRoulette. I decided to change my MO for the last session and instead of wearing a gas mask that makes me look like Civil Protection, I instead wrapped a shirt around my face. Not much of an improvement, but it’s an interesting experiment. Well, not really, I just feel like acting like a stalker for a while. Let’s check the tally of encounters and see where the demographics lie:
Ghetto Dudes: 9. Not quite so popular this time around. Barely seen any.
Dicks: 12. With a sigh of relief I can successfully report that the number of dick sightings seems to have dropped right off. I guess sometimes you click on an empty chamber, right?
Attempted Dickings: 16. Something as simple as “point webcam at phallus” is apparently too hard for this growing group. Then again that’s definitely a good thing.
Androgynous: 5. Fortunately most people are making sense. Seen enough replicas of Early David Bowie for a lifetime, thanks.
Pictures: 3. Haven’t seen any more static images.
Regular Guys: 91. By far and large the population so far appears to be bored white males, usually in their teens or 20s. A few older guys appear for some reason… and it’s a reason probably better left unsaid.
Girls: 8. This group is growing slowly. So far the pilot’s cap hasn’t done much to strike up a conversation… except for one lass who bluntly asked “dick for tits?” She didn’t get her wish.
Audio Only: 3. Though some guy tried to play his guitar without sound. Sorry man, you looked impressive playing it though.
Complements: 6. Some people love random things like this. Only way I could get more complements is to dress up like a cat.
WTF: 8. Eight things so far are beyond words. So far I’ve seen a shot of a toilet (empty, thank friggin’ Christ for that!), a cat, a dog, and an empty room with SOMETHING happening in a dark corner, but whatever it was, I couldn’t make it out. And that’s probably a very good thing. Most disturbingly of all was a guy sitting in a shop, smoking a cig. That in itself isn’t alarming, but when the shop appears to be lined with plastic drums that look suspiciously like petrol containers, things start to look suspicious.
So far only a handful of people have bothered to chat to me. Most of the time it’s to ask “Why?” (to which I reply “Why not?”) or to say how awesome it is. 95% of encounters are quickly terminated by the other person, not that I can blame them. If I saw me, I’d terminate me too. Like Terminator 2, except not. One guy from Russia settled in for a long chat about Australia and Russia and war. It was interesting, if not completely random. ChatRoulette isn’t nearly as depraved as I thought it was; I’d say it’s safer than Fortitude Valley, but then again sticking your hand into a sharps container in an Infectious Diseases ward is probably a lot safer than going near The Valley. It’s not over until I say it’s over, so stay tuned for more ChatRoulette rage… though most people seem to be shooting blanks.