Breaking news out of Skanksville college girls are whoring themselves out to wealthy, old men in order to assuage their out-of-control spending habits. The breaking part: they’re doing it online now.
Coeds looking for some extra folding money are flocking en masse to “sugar daddy” websites, AKA the online dating community’s burgeoning Red Light District. Cyber matchmakers like SeekingArrangement.com facilitate relationships between a sugar “baby” and a correspondent “daddy” who is willing and able to pay her desired monthly “allowance” (in some cases, in excess of $3,000).
So what does Daddy get out of the arrangement? That warm, fuzzy feeling that washes over him when he performs a random act of kindness? Well, that and a warmer, fuzzier feeling that washes over him every time a teenager jumps on his age-freckled wang -- even if SeekingArrangement CEO and founder Brandon Wade insists that explicit sex-for-money exchanges breach his site’s terms of agreement.
The explosive popularity of such websites (membership on the site among college students has risen by 58% in the last year), compounded with a certain high-profile “imaginary girlfriend” scandal you might have caught wind of last week, confirms something we’ve long suspected about the Internet: don’t trust a woman farther than you can throw her.
As a compendium of all things Bro, we feel it is our duty to update you on all the latest developments in the trifling industry, especially those specific to life in the Digital Age. What follows should be regarded as an instructional guide to identifying and subsequently circumventing the many varieties of the common cyber whore. Proceed with caution.
10. The Catfish
Modus Operandi: The “catfish” plies her trade by impersonating far more attractive girls through the veil of a pixellated screen. Oh, so you mean like Anne Hathaway? Not exactly. Catfish dupe their victims using fake social media profiles, whereas Hathaway relies on industry connections, materially advantageous circumstances and a striking resemblance to Mr. Ed to secure her roles.
What She’s After: A false sense of acceptance, your dignity, dick pics, the chance to meet MTV’s Nev Schulman.
How to Avoid Her: Disregard any and everything you learn in the PR workshops Notre Dame offers its student-athletes. Also, suggest a videochat to confirm her hair color, body type and -- alarmingly -- gender before fulfilling any requests for photos of your birthday suit.
9. The Sugar Baby
Modus Operandi: Sugar Babies, like StubHub, exploit one of those beautiful cyber loopholes that make it legal to do things online that are crimes in real life. In this case that thing is prostitution. Tangentially related startup idea: SugarBabyHub, a combination ticket vendor/escort service that guarantees admission AND a hot, barely legal date to the next sold-out event near you.
What She’s After: Your moneystacks. Plus maybe a car or modest studio apartment, if she ever figures out your real name and marriage status.
How to Avoid Her: If it’s college girls you’re after, I can hardly believe you’ll need to produce a suitcase of money and create some sleazy profile to get the ball rolling. In my experience, an invitation to a three-kegger, elementary command of the English language and the ability to walk home are the only prerequisites.
8. The “International” Girlfriend
Modus Operandi: A few months ago, ESPN started broadcasting creepy commercials late at night for what appeared to be a Russian mail-order bride service. That site was called AnastasiaGlobal.com, one of a number of “International Dating Sites” that connect American men with beautiful women overseas. A paid membership to one of these sites will win you the passive attention of an illiterate Eastern European peasant’s daughter via webcam for twenty minutes a night. Supposedly you can even fly her over for a weekend visit if you offer him a plow and two oxen.
What She’s After: Legal passage into and habitation of Yoo-Ess-Amereeka!
How to Avoid Her: Move to Wyoming. I don’t think they have Internet yet.
7. The SIF (Secret Internet Fatty)
Modus Operandi: The SIF populates most free and paid online dating sites. She is known for her deft hand at self-photography, a skill which allows her to ensnare men in the digital space who wouldn’t otherwise approach her until striking out with all other vaguely female forms present. Even the one with the moustache named Steve.
What She’s After: A willing cock and perhaps a pizza. And wings.
How to Avoid Her: The SIF depends on creatively lit and purposefully angled close-up photos to appear skinnier in 2-D. Request body shots if none are provided. If her response to that question is “Tequila or whiskey?” well, there’s your answer.
6. The YouTube Fame Whore
Modus Operandi: Someday she’ll be famous -- but for now she’s just making amateur booty clap videos set to Ke$ha. Don’t act like you’re not driving that viewcount up.
What She’s After: A “like.” The attention Daddy never gave her.
How to Avoid Her: Don’t click on that link. Exercise some willpower. Especially not the one where her preteen sister is crumping in a two-piece right next to her. Next thing you know the whole fraternity’s computers are being appropriated by the Feds.
5. The Chatroulette Prankster
Modus Operandi: She lies in wait with bated breath behind a computer screen, wig fastened, legs shaved and body looking certifiably female. She starts to do a little jig. Shakes her ass just like the girls in the videos. And then she spins about front and BAM! -- you realize you’re looking at a dude. Hopefully your boner goes away.
What She’s After: Your shame! Perhaps to be publicly broadcast on YouTube.
How to Avoid Her: If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my short time on the site, it’s that no good can come out of ChatRoulette. You’re either staring at a boner, staring at a boner or staring at a boner. No one wins. Unless the game is counting boners. And that’s a terrible game.
4. The Predator Catcher
Modus Operandi: Chris Hansen became an overnight American hero when “To Catch a Predator” debuted in 2004. The show’s producers set up online sting operations in which they would impersonate underage girls to identify and subsequently incriminate (some might say ENTRAP) sexual predators. Desperate internet troll leaves grandma’s basement, shows up at empty house expecting brace-faced virgin to appear -- and out comes Hansen, public humiliator of perverts numero uno.
What She’s After: Your right to walk within 100 feet of a school, Chuck-E-Cheese or sweatshop.
How to Avoid Her: Steer clear of chat rooms and Taylor Swift messageboards. And remember: 15 means 15, even if she’s your cousin.
3. The Casual Encounter
Modus Operandi: Craigslist is basically the world’s largest support group for enthusiasts of weird shit, but among them, the good folks behind “Casual Encounters” may take the cake. If I were a poster on Casual Encounters, our exchange might go something like this:
Me: I’m into having my toenails clipped while wearing adult diapers. You down?
You: Oh man, that’s really cool. I’m definitely curious.
Me: Great! Just show up at this nondescript, rural location that happens to be out of cell range tonight at 9:00.
You: Awesome! C u then.
Me: (sound of knives being sharpened)
What She’s After: Organs. Or maybe just unmitigated access to all your bank accounts. Might depend on how many beads you can fit without shedding a tear.
How to Avoid Her: Opt for OkCupid.
2. Those Fucking Pop-Ups
Modus Operandi: Dude! Hot girls in (insert your location here) are messaging you RIGHT NOW. I’ve come to your Facebook page to let you know. Don’t worry, I’ll find you on ESPN, BroBible and PornHub to remind you again later. I’m telling you man, these girls are dying to fuck you. They’re right down the street. I can have them here in five.
What She’s After: Supposedly my hot body that she’s never even laid eyes on. More realistically, my credit card digits.
How to Avoid Her: I wish I knew what it is about my Internet footprint that deems me the likeliest man in the world to purchase cyber-sex. Couldn’t be the porn. Na.
1. My Ex-Girlfriend
Modus Operandi: Once upon a time, I could drop a cell phone into a pitcher of beer and effectively wipe out contact with every girl who had so much as given me three-quarters of a blowjob. Not anymore. Now bitches got my Gmail, my Facebook, my Twitter handle, my Instagram feed, my hand modeling portfolio ... the list of channels through which they can endlessly nag, criticize and beg to sit on my face again is exhaustive and, to my dismay, inescapable.
What She’s After: Closure ... Or so she’s been saying for going on three years now.
How to Avoid Her: Go Kerouacking on a mother fucker. Which in 2012 translates to turning off cell phone notifications for a few hours. Or just tell her she’s fat and you never loved her -- didn’t work for my dad, but it might for you.
[Girl on Computer image via Shutterstock]