Wednesday, April 21, 2004


My couch is apparantly a wireless internet hub.

I've had my new computer for a month or two by now, but I haven't been able to access anything wirelessly from my apartment. But suddenly, sitting at my couch and writing about Mr. Ernest Hemingway and Ms. Gertrude Stein, a little ding tells me that I have mail. I have mail? How can I have mail, the phone cord is dangle-dangling over near my desk, in the other room!

I look--and indeed, I do have mail. Up in the corner of my screen the little symbol that is usually gray has gone black. My soul is a wi-fi hub, or perhaps my cat. Either way, I'm on the couch, I'm on the internet, I'm suddenly not doing my work, and by god, this wireless business is FAST.

Dude, does Donna have bangs? My god, the West Wing, it is fired.

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