Dial
up
hurts
me.
I'm jonesing for bandwidth like a junkie locked out of a methadone clinic. At least I was able to set up some sort of wireless access with my parents' modem connection and a USB wi-fi card. It's slow, but I still feel some joy in the absence of wires. I have a feeling it's the same sense of civilization that Victorian era British explorers felt when having afternoon tea in a tent on the savannahs of the Serengeti. Yes, the table is made of an old termite mound, and yes (my good chap) the chair does smell of sweat and elephant dung, but dammit WE STILL MUST HAVE OUR EARL GREY!
2 comments:
Hey,
You're probably back, now. I, myself, was expecting the pain of dial-up at home, but mother surprised me and got DSL.
Hah hah hah.
Looking forward to being home, so I can see you again...
-Ericka
I'm putting the broad back in broadband, baby. Even though I'm now safely in the confines of my work computer's superfast interweb connection, I still like making the dial-up sound with my mouth.
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