It's a great deal - no more hours wasted
on dead links I didn't
see coming, and if I was part of the
system, I would know before
anything even

happened. Everyone wants to
get high these
days, so why not try
shooting yourself up
with a USB port to the arm while
you

wait for someone to tell
you � via IRC, of course � that
no, that�ll get you the blue screen
of death. Intravenous

bursts of neurological
electronic signals�ll pump through
your body, twitch your biceps
without your

permission. But hey, it�s better than snow
telling you that your system has
failed to deliver, crashed
and burned and betrayed
you � even if it�s not the one at
fault �
like everyone else who just
happens to live with you,
watching you sleep and knowing,
grinning smugly, that
they could

strangle you right then and
there. And you know, there�s
this POP3 address I
could hook you up with. Sure,
it�s fainting

under the weight
of stupid soccer moms who
download and download and download
themselves into oblivion, making
it hard on all the rest of us to
get any work done. Wait (!),

did you just say
you don�t know computers? Well,
I guess (they say FPS games
numb us to violence, ensure
apathy in this new generation, but
I don�t know, I think
it all has to do with age) I�ll just have to
delete j00.