My Mum Met Chat Roulette.

I introduced my mother to Chat Roulette the other day.

I’ve never been one to have regrets as every experience helps to shape the person you are but, without a shadow of a doubt, it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made to not take screen shots.

Chat Roulette is not something I really care about. Like everyone, I pissed my pants in delight over watching Merton (of YouTube fame) serenade everyone with his piano but webcams terrify me. Mine is integrated into my laptop and I dislike it. I find it sneaky. It just looks really suspicious and I have been known to cover it up with  masking tape just in case it’s secretly turned on and is broadcasting me live on the interwebz. That’s probably just my paranoia being extreme as opposed to my webcam giving me indication that it’s a living organism, but whatever – you can’t be too careful.

So, after she chugged a cider and lime, she was all “let’s see this new craze! woo” and I was all “uhh…” and she was all “COME ON!” so we plonked in front of the webcam and logged on…

…To see the most obvious looking meth head I’ve ever seen sucking off a chubster. Mum screams. Next.
An old man wanking. Mum screams. Next.
A fat woman juggling her tits. Mum screams. Next.
A group of twelve year old boys. Mum screams. Next.
A group of twelve year old girls. Mum screams. Next.
A doll. Mum screams. Next.
A really, really hairy minge. Mum screams. Exit.

WHERE WAS MERTON?

It was a total let down and, actually, very awkward. I spent 22 years avoiding watching programmes that have a bit of kissing in when I’m with my mother, so to see multiple clunge wiggling around was a truly terrible moment. As I didn’t take any screen shots, I drew a little picture of what happened:

Next episode: My mum meets goatse.
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