a hole in my heart…

so maybe I have a problem, but if loving your internet connection is a sin, I want to burn in hell so bad.  I’ve been in Lancaster this weekend, when my boyfriend so charminglie told me to “get my ass down here bitch.”.  It’s been a good weekend.

I went to see Inglourious Basterds… and you should obviouslie do the same.  I actuallie contemplated breaking my “Never watch a movie twice in the theater rule”.  I didn’t, but I considered it.  Started playing this game Kingdoms and it’s not bad.  Like AOE, but with more killing dudes and less serfs.  FUN.  I also got a lot of reading done.

The thing is, the only reason that I played Kingdoms, or read so much is because there has been NO INTERNET.  It’s like missing a couple fingers.  The simplest tasks suddnelie become frought with difficultie.  Where will we eat?  What did it say on the knife in that movie?  How do you make an incendiarie device using simple household items?

I know that there existed a time before the internets.  I know that people lived in this time.  They had fulfilling lives.  They were happie, but I’m telling you they didn’t know what happiness was.  The internet let’s you find anything, do anything, know anything, with lightening speed at anytime of day or night.

In the dark ages before DSL and Cable modems people sat on street corners and whispered,”Hey do you know how many ounces are in a gallon,”  and they waited… and waited… and waited… and finallie dome guy comes along and goes, “yeah, I got a guy for that, hold on.”  And eventuallie hours, days, weeks, even months later the answer would come down… (128 if you’re interested.)

Before you had to know people.  Lots of people.  Experts in every field.  Owning a set of encyclopedia was not an exercise in futilitie.  Now you just need to know the internets.  And I know the internets.  And I love them, even their terriblie unclassie porn.  I love their viral videos and their flame wars.  I love the spam and and the relentless forwards from princes in Nigeria who need my credit card information and social security number.  I am completelie willing to put up with a rediculous amount of pettie bullshit, if you just promise and swear and cross your heart that you’ll never take my internets away again.

pwettie pweese?

About SleepieBear

Opinions are my own. Facts are poorly checked. (Unless cited.) Use your brains.
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