AUTHOR: Beth TITLE: DATE: 7/19/2002 04:15:00 AM ----- BODY:
Bling, bling, home slice. Now say that in as white a voice as possible. Perhaps even with an enthusiastic thumbs-up and cheesy Dick-Clark smile. There. That's it. Ahh, my minions. So much dicking around to do, so little time. Verdad? My parental units hooked me up phat with a new hard drive for my birthday, and I just got the computer back from surgery this past weekend. It's finally hooked up (phat) and running like, well, like a well-oiled machine, tonight for the first time. I've been putting it through its paces, mucking around on Windows Explorer to get my files in order. Then I set about getting new ones, because, obviously, you can't just leave 80G worth of new hard-drive space just sitting there. Not at all. And what better way to fill up that new space than with MP3s. You know, friends, it's a little like Trent used to tell me--"I wanna be everywhere. I wanna know everything. I wanna fuck everyone in the world. I wanna do something. That matters." "Right you are, Trent," I'd say. Because he usually is. But especially on this occasion, the way I saw things. Those sage words are actually pretty much my personal MO in life...I want all the books. I bug people to hang out with me until Mr. Hicks turns to me and says, with that look in his eye, "Beth, you are an angel. You're too damn needy. But you are an angel." And I know to shut the hell up right now. And I want all the MP3s. Right now among my most wanted MP3s is Lewis Black's The White Album. I'm sorry, Mr. Black. Were your album actually commercially available, you would be receiving your royalty for it from me. But since you have seemingly overlooked actually distributing it to any major retailer, I'm afraid I must resort to piracy. Without further ado, I hopped online, salivating at the quicksilver processing on my new Mean Machine, only to discover that Audiogalaxy had become the Audio-ghetto. I mean, it really sucks now. I'm sorry. It's too painful to go into further. But K came through for me as usual. She told me about Kazaa, and so I have moved my unscrupulous pirate's galleon of a browser over there, and begun gathering up booty as fast as possible. I have now double-clicked my way to Lewis Black bliss. Thanks, K. Thank you, Kazaa. Sorry. I hate it when I start sounding like an infomercial. I also hate it when porn sites instant message you. That should really be illegal. Of course, there are still glitches to be worked out. Like the lack of Broadband in this house. Because, you see, I must now wait an estimated 30 hours to receive my full heapin' helpin' o' LB as opposed to the thirty minutes I'd have to wait were we more adequately connected. I need a better connection. Always. I need speed. I need the world at my fingertips. This comp. is nice and all, but what I really want is the computer Tom Cruise used in Minority Report. I wanna be everywhere. I wanna know everything. I wanna fuck everyone in the world. I wanna do something. That matters.
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