Today I woke up with a case of morning wood so severe my entire crotch was covered in termites.
Kind of afraid to go to bed now. It’s after ten and one can only read so many books, so I fired up the internet. I keep it disconnected behind the piano, so it’s a pain in the ass to turn on. It becomes an event.
“I’m going to go online! Woo hoo!”
My service ends on the first, so I only have a few more days of it anyway. I play this game with my internet provider, where I cancel my service and then a month later they offer some ridiculous deal to get me back. I used to pay nearly 40 bucks a month for wi-fi, now I’m down to around $15. Thinking about getting one of those wi-fi antennae and snagging it from one of the Starbucks across the street. The one over to the left actually has another Starbucks inside of it, located in the bathroom, so the signal should be pretty strong coming from that way. The one over to the right, however, is closer. I will have to experiment. Anyone have any experience with these antennae? Do they actually do what they say they do?
The idea of paying to be online is getting more and more comical. Corporations and government entities have a very keen interest in me, in all of us, being online. They should pay US, not us them. Prediction: free wi-fi for all within ten years, mandatory within twenty.
At the store today, I was following a woman who was pushing a stroller. She was talking on her cellphone to the child in the stroller, who had a cellphone of his own. I left them and stopped at the bananas, where an old man was bitching at the produce clerk because the bananas were 59 cents a pound.
“Wal-Mart has them for 55 cents a pound,” he griped. The poor produce clerk could only shrug his shoulders.
Near the bananas was a cooler display with $2.99 fruit cups. There were chunks of pineapple or watermelon or strawberry slices. Others. One was even mixed fruit. On the bottom of each cup was stamped “Product of China”. I tried to imagine an economic system whereby it would be cheaper to ship fruit cups halfway across globe on a giant ocean liner rather than produce them locally–or at least within 500 miles–and I could not.
I tell you, though, I will never feel guilty about my personal “carbon footprint” in such a world, no matter how many millionaire celebrities try to make me feel that way.
When I was done shopping, I went home, drew a cold bath, got in it, and had a nervous breakdown.
