Since the dawn of time, websites have come and gone faster than you can say, "Wow, websites sure have come and gone faster than you can say, 'Wow, websites sure have come and gone faster than you can say, "Wow, websites sure have come and gone pretty damn fast."'" One website, however, has endured the fickle tastes of people on the internet. That website is not mine. I think it's dolphinsex.org or something. Anyway, I interviewed myself and answered some questions nobody else has cared to ask. Goodbye, sobriety. Hello, social acceptance! How long has it been around? The summer of 2000, a time before I was to become a sophomore in high school, I could have gotten a job. I could have worked out. I could have worn pants. Instead, with the help of rock god and part-time pole dancing comrade Darryl, I learned HTML. If you who don't know what HTML is, I'm guessing you're either not a dork or you're a woman. Regardless of whether you own a pocket protector or a vagina, you should know that HTML stands for Hyper Transfer Magic Llamas. These majestic llamas put together HTML coding and make the webpages you visit whenever you search for pictures of boobies on the internet. HTML will allow you to use pretty fonts, darken stuff so it looks important, and display pictures of things that will make people like you (see right). As of right now, this website is hosted by Geocities. Geocities is a place where technologically inept people can come together and make a webpage about their friends, their church youth group, or their fascination with posing GI Joe's into sexual positions. Free webhosts have allowed so much crap to acculumate on the internet I don't know whether to thank them for being generous or destroy them for unleashing the apocalypse on all of us. As soon as Geocities collapses underneath the massive amount of webshit it's been collecting, the skies will rain pictures of grown men in puppy costumes and a flood of Dragonball Z animated GIFs shall cover the Earth and leave civilization in ruins. Geocities isn't the only webhost where bazillions of people have gone to tell the world exactly how worthless they are. The kindness of my heart, which is somewhere near my left ventricle, is putting a knife to my throat and demanding that I tell you about the many ways to post a free webpage on the internet. So now I bring you: Free Webhosts That Want Your Soul. Click the words or the butt to continue. A year after starting my page I bought the Mindlessnothing.com forwarding address for 80 patriotic, America-loving dollars so I could spare all of you the trouble of having to remember a Geocities address. Also, if I happen to want to move my site to a place without those uncomfortable ads then I could always move all of my crap someplace else and you stupid morons wouldn't know the difference, you imbeciles. So be happy I finally spent money on something. I'm saving you time. How do you assemble your pages? First, I download Dreamweaver using KaZaA, a well-known program that no two people pronounce the same. It's always "Kuh-zah", "Kah-zuh", or "That fucking thing won't work." Either way, I use it to illegally get software. So I install Dreamweaver, crack it illegally, and then illegally create a new document. Then I exit out of Dreamweaver and uninstall the damn thing. It's not because owning Dreamweaver, a completely reliable web design program, involves breaking fifty million laws, it's just that I'm more comfortable typing all my HTML freehand. While using Dreamweaver would probably save me plenty of time due to its high level of efficiency, for some reason I'm too damn lazy to use it. That's right. I'm too lazy to be lazy. Which is why I type everything out word by word, command by command, all so I can make a website so pretty that women will be compelled enough to have sex with me. I'm in it for the sex, everybody. Which brings me to the next question I'm going to ask myself: Are you paid for writing all of this crap? When I first started this website, all I thought was that the F word was the funniest damn thing since old people falling down and screaming in pain. But now that this hunk of internet junk has reached over 10,000 hits, my paycheck has nearly doubled. Before, I used to earn not a fucking nickel. Now, I'm pleased to report that my monthly pay has doubled to not a fucking dime. I'll be living in that unless one of you decides to sponsor me so I can afford to learn to read and maybe buy a new shiny car with platinum dubs and bling bling whoadays, whatever the hell those are. Let's pretend for a moment that I was getting rich from writing about using human children as gifts for Sweetest Day and then scanning pictures of myself violating pretty little red cars. I would then have to introduce all of you to Mr. Idiot With Money, the only person who would pay me for doing what I do. If any of you happen to know somebody who likes to pay outrageous amounts of cash to hear a mediocre tampon joke, please let me know. I'm desperate. I will sell out easily. If anyone out there happens to run some sort of solid gold newspaper sold to millionaires for bags filled with pirate's treasure, hire me. If someone pays me enough I'll do a page all about why we should allow gay people to get married while burning American flags and microwaving Catholic puppies. And that wasn't a joke. For a real joke, please send envolopes filled with American currency to my house. Hell, enclose a bomb coated in anthrax if it makes you happy. Why the white text on a black background? Because I'm a depressed, twisted individual. Just kidding, of course. I'm not depressed, twisted, or an individual. I am a raging hurricane of joyous testosterone that'll gladly kick you in the groin and make love to your girlfriend. And if you don't have a girlfriend, I'll fix you up with one of my single female friends. You will date her for a while, buy her stuff, and be happy with her company. And then I'll have sex with her. Ok, so maybe I'm twisted. Another reason the background is African and the text is caucasian is because I think it looks better. And any combination of black and white is better than the clowny colors anyone can find on the internet by doing a search for "girlz" or "shoutoutz". Try it. I double dog dare you. One day, during school, I was in the computer lab not doing work like every other kid in there and I noticed that someone had tried to print out one of the many pages on this site with white text. Just for future refence, if you really want to print this stuff out, most web browsers are nice enough to let you change the view settings so you can print out pages that are mean enough to tease you with text that isn't black. So keep that in mind next time you want to impress your friends, teachers, and parole officers with my work. What the hell kind of name is MindlessNothing.com? When I registered my domain name, I wasn't thinking. I wanted an address that people would associate with me so it would be easy to remember. I then tried to register www.HenryRoberts.com. Upon realizing that HenryRoberts.com was not only a website about barbecue sauce but that my last name was not Roberts, I scrapped that idea. Here I am with Nothing before I got the sex change operation and she got into a horrible car crash which left her with the body of a cat. A long time ago I had a cat named Nothing. Most people think I am bullshitting them about this name and they especially think I'm bullshitting them when I tell them that Nothing once saved my life. That's because I am. Nothing, like most cats, didn't care about anyone other than Nothing. Nothing was just your average cat. Wait, no. Nothing was just my average cat. For many years it served as both a comrade and a pillow as I wasted my childhood playing Nintendo and sleeping in footie pajamas. But that stopped as soon as I started high school. By that time, Nothing was 16, which is something like 347 in cat years. She got to point where she could no longer groom herself or vomit in the toilet like a normal cat. Soon she just died. Some would say it was the fact that she was older than most grandparents that killed her. The noose and empty bottle of cherry-flavored cyanide next to her corpse would imply she killed herself. But I still believe that she was murdered because when I watched her get stabbed by that tabby cat with the lazy eye from down the street I started to think that there were more people involved here than just Nothing and her serious heart condition. When Nothing was old and her brain was pretty much gone, she did mindless things. Yes, that's right. She was a mindless Nothing. Now, if during the naming process for this website you think I became so desperate that I'd name it after a dead cat, then you're an idiot. I told you the story of Nothing to take up space. MindlessNothing.com is the result of me throwing together two words that sound halfway cool without seeming goth. So I guess it serves its purpose. Will you design a website for me? Honestly, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing with this website. I can type things and make pictures appear. I know how to make tables. Other than that, I don't know a damn thing. So no, I will not design a website for you because I'm the only person I want to disappoint. Read up on the subject here. If I'm able to teach myself, you should be able to as well. And if you can't, get your illiterate ass back to high school. Not because you need to learn, but because you're probably teaching a teen health class. What can I expect from this website in the future? After my ambition runs dry in college, you can all expect pages and pages of pornography. You'll see plenty of banner ads popping up all over your screen like acne on a miserable adolescent boy. I'll use only pink and purple fonts and replace all of my S's with Z's to sound "kewl". I'll write to appeal to only horny middle school kids in search of boobies and replace all of my nouns, verbs, and adjectives with "fuck." So I suggest you all keep reading my stuff so I have a reason to maintain this hunk of crap. Unless, of course, you'd prefer boobies. 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