balding angrily

I goatse’d [Don’t worry; link completely safe.] Jerry yesterday; it was the highlight of my weekend. I didn’t actually show him my own personal version of the offending picture; I found the original on the internets and made him look at it. If you’ve never seen the original picture, click around; you’ll find it. You’ll lose your immortal soul upon viewing it, but that’s the price you pay. There’s also this helpful Wikipedia article.

Oh. And mom, please for the love of God, do not try to find the original goatse. You will be horrified and, as I said, lose your immortal soul.

I wish I had taken a picture of his reaction, but I just so badly wanted him to experience that instantaneous gut-punch that I didn’t think ahead. He screamed at me, and was genuinely angry at me until he saw me bent over in my chair with tears coming out of my eyes from laughing at him. Then he came around.

Which gets me to thinking, can you call yourself a true user of the internets if you haven’t been goatse’d? Or is it more of a rite of passage like sticking a bone through your nose or chasing a tiger? Can we classify people into pre-goatse and post-goatse?

And further, is this the new goatse?