Though few of us know Mark Shrayber in person, we all have a friend like Mark Shrayber. They may even be a colleague, acquaintance, the dude working the cash register at one of the few remaining Blockbusters, or heaven forbid you may even be fucking the Mark Shrayber in your life.
You've all known this: you go through your day, doing your daily shit. Everything is going perfectly well and the day seems normal and the local farmers market has some bananas on sale which seems cool because it's not even the season for bananas when, suddenly, a voice whispers in your ear: "You know what some people do with that in bed? With poop? Regurgitation!"
You, my friend, have just been Shrayber'd. This is a phenomenon when you're doing something perfectly non sexual and non gross, like browsing the mainpage of a SFW site, when suddenly "GUESS WHICH POOP STAINED HOLE THAT GOES INTO" is beating into your eyes like the march of the emperor penguins minus the soothing dulcet tones of Morgan Freeman telling you it'll be all right.
Sadly, you can't really stay mad at you Shrayber, because Shrayber's mean well. It's just that they, for some reason, are called to look these odd human interactions up themselves and then share it with the rest of us. They are folklorists, amateur cultural anthropologists, and they want to share their findings.
Even if that ruins the day for the rest of us, we must appreciate the Shrayber in our life. If anything, it is adding to the lexicon.