A nice batch of insanity
Started: Thursday, June 6, 2002 20:36
Finished: Thursday, June 6, 2002 23:56
And now, it's Thursday. Can it really be Thursday, going on Friday already? Yes, it can. How 'bout that. This could also be referred to as the "don't tell anybody I told you this in an email" week. (And no, I'm NOT referring what I sent to / received from you, whoever "you" are who happens to be reading this right now. I'm referring to something entirely different. Believe me.)
And I'm just laughing myself silly right now because I just got the first reply to... well... never mind. It's too embarrassing. And I don't like to embarrass myself here on this web page because that's just not me. Not what I do at all. I think I'll just go off and listen to some Britney now.
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Thank you for your patience in this matter.
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She's a star
But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking
If there's nothing missing in my life
Then why do these tears come at night?
That's gotta be the most postmodernistically tongue-in-cheek song ever. Well... maybe not. Maybe it really is just a pile-o-crap, and I have yet to see the light. But anyway...
And, oh dear. Whatever embarrassingly silly thing I was going to say is going to have to wait. Because my dad just called, and he's just bought an iMac. He's insane. Rather than submit this rambling and start a new one later though, I think I'll just leave this window open and dangling. Because we wouldn't want to interrupt the oh-so-profound stream of thought that was being revealed here. So this particular rambling will just have to have a ridiculously long time between start and finish. Okie?
Back later.
[Bitscape leaves the Castle Lair.]
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[Much time passes...]
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[Bitscape returns.]
Geez... An iMac. My dad is crazy. And ATTBI is still not working for him, but perhaps slightly closer to a clue. (And at least he can now be officially supported by them.) Methinks the ease of the setup/installation process has gone downhill since I signed on, back when it was @Home. Such are the days...
Anyway, I need to respond to this chick now.
Oh yes, I was going to embarrass myself by saying that a couple weeks ago, I took a hint from my good friend Shadowkiller, and put myself up for sale in the meat market with an online dating service. See my lovely (though incomplete) profile under a an alias I may or may not adopt for future use. (And please, don't laugh too hard at it.)
My logic in so doing goes something like this: Hell, if I want to meet a large variety / quantity of women, I may as well take advantage of every available avenue in existence. The worst that can happen is lots and lots of pain, heartache, and embarrassment. So bring it on.
Besides, it was free. Well, sort of. Signing on is free, but you can't initiate contact with other members unless you get a "premium" membership (or some such), and people who pay get priority listing. That's where they get'cha. So anyway, I thought about using my credit card to "upgrade" myself, but never quite got around to it.
Left it alone for a while, figuring it would be pretty much dead unless I were to pony up some cash. But just tonight, I wandered by the web site to see. Lo and behold, a message that had been sent 2 days ago, from someone who "would like to be worthy" of me. (Hmmm... Maybe I need to tweak the email notify prefs so I get immediate notification. Or does that cost money too?)
Looking at her profile, I almost have to wonder if I'm worthy of her! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the world of 21st century geek mating calls. This is almost too silly for words. But hey, if it works, go with it. (None of which has been demonstratively proven at this point, but that's what risk is about.)
Well now, since this person has taken the time and energy to write me a message, a response is in order. What that response shall consist of, I do not yet know. That is for me to figure out. Make it up as ya go, but be pathologically honest. Yeah, that's the secret. It's not a contradiction, either.
Hmmmm.... Switching gears.
Anyway... Am I actually trying to make a point here? Or am I just flying off the handle like some newly sexually liberated geek boy who's finally lost the last of his marbles? It certainly would appear to be more of the latter.
Oh yeah. This site would not quite be labeled as porn (but you STILL better not visit it from work). I enjoy sites that combine pseudo-manifesto-like content with aesthetically pleasing imagery. And actually, it's far higher quality than 95% of what gets passed off as "hot porn" on the net.
Heh. I'm turned on. [/me tries to think of some other Howard Stern-esque comment, but can't quite find it.] "Next?"
Oh, right. I have nothing to say. My apartment is a junk pile (but not as bad as my dad's). Especially my bedroom. I haven't done laundry. I need to do laundry. I am exhausted.
Therefore, tonight's bout of online content farming insanity will end NOW.
Power to the insanity. It's the only thing that keeps us sane. --Jaeger (I think I got that right, but I don't have it in front of me, and I don't feel like reloading jaegerfesting repeatedly to make sure.)