The... pain...
Dial
up
hurts
me.
I'm jonesing for bandwidth like a junkie locked out of a methadone clinic. At least I was able to set up some sort of wireless access with my parents' modem connection and a USB wi-fi card. It's slow, but I still feel some joy in the absence of wires. I have a feeling it's the same sense of civilization that Victorian era British explorers felt when having afternoon tea in a tent on the savannahs of the Serengeti. Yes, the table is made of an old termite mound, and yes (my good chap) the chair does smell of sweat and elephant dung, but dammit WE STILL MUST HAVE OUR EARL GREY!
Ooo! Ooo! Pick me! Pick me!
Can I be
named a far-left hate site? Please Mr O'Reilly? C'mon, I promise
I'll compare your hate spewing rhetoric with Joe McCarthy and criticize the Bush Administration as often as I'd like! I know the freedom of speech means I'm only supposed to blindly agree with the Republican party and dissent is undemocratic.
Freak.
You know what would be great?
If I had a theme song. Not a whole soundtrack, oh no, I'm not that selfish. Just my own theme song. I used to think that the sign that someone had "made it" was the respect of his peers, the esteem of his community, et cetera. Not any more. Now it looks like the true test of success is if you have a theme song. All the cool podcasts have one.
Darth Vader has one. Hell, even
this guy has a theme song all his own. It's a pretty sweet one too. That's what I want. A theme song.
And no, I have no idea where this came from or why I bothered posting it.
