Around 20 years ago people were terrified of the potential of computers. Movies such as Tron gave the general population the impression that you could actually get sucked into a computer and be made to fight weird sort of motorbike things…
And the film Wargames introduced the concept of hacking to the world. It showed a boy inadvertantly breaking into the Pentagon mainframe and almost starting a nuclear armageddon. Less relevantly, it also showed that you can make any computer in the world explode by playing noughts and crosses with it.
"Anyway", the film told us, "Never mind about that noughts and crosses business. God knows what we were thinking. But look at the catastrophic implications of hacking. Think of the future, THINK OF THE FUTURE! JESUS!"
Hacking, reader. Hacking is where it’s at. But these specially-trained individuals, known as geeks, have not accessed the Pentagon. Nor have they managed to cure worldwide famine and starvation? No, but they have brought us the contents of Paris Hilton’s phonebook. And the world has gone nuts as a result.
Paris Hilton last week had her phone raided and the numbers of all her famous chums stapled onto the web. This meant that, along with seeing Hilton without her clothes on (again), anybody has the chance to call precisely every single shitlist celebrity in the world and pretend to be their friend. Wow! Live the dream, people.
However, the forces of the universe are finely balanced, for when there is too much pleasure in the world, we can expect to be delivered an equal amount of suffering. So, even though we could phone such luminaries as Ashlee Simpson, we now have to be subjected to the sight of the most loathsome singer in the world getting his rocks off.
Fred ‘Now I Know Why You Wanna Hate Me’ Durst, a talent vacuum of such of such staggering enormity that he made a George Michael song actually sound worse than the original, was also hacked.
And on his phone was a video of him doing it with a girl.
In the holy name of journalism, and to bring you this tale of horror, hecklerspray took a deep breath and went looking for a suitably-sized vomit recepticle, before watching Durst-boy’s video. And we can report that Fred ‘Stinky, Stinky Finger’ isn’t very good at sex.
"Touch my balls and ass" he sort of mutters midway through half-heartedly prodding the unfortunate girl with his man-tampon.
And if that isn’t horrific enough, he then turns the camera onto himself, so everyone can see his middle-aged, trampy sex face.
And the face.
Oh, The Face he pulls. In the future, hecklerspray will be able to identify the moment we saw Fred Durst’s sex face as the moment we started to become repelled by physical contact of any kind, just as we can’t listen to ‘My Cherie Amour’ anymore after hearing it in John Leslie’s home porno. Yes, OK, we watched that too. Journalism is a dirty business and not for those of a sensitive nature.
However, and as previously alluded to, the forces of the universe always make up for subjecting us to such awfulness. You see, Fred "Nuthin’ Doin’" Durst’s phone number was also in Paris Hilton’s hacked phonebook.
So as payback, we’re going to call him and play noughts and crosses with him until his head explodes.