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Bunnie
Michael considered fate at 14:11   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
See, I respect Bunnie alot. Not because she is a raving sexpot, or because she is a stoner speedster, or because she goes through guys like I go through socks.. I respect her because she checks her messages when she gets home.

That, my friends, is respectable.

When she is spending time with someone then she is committed to that outing and she isn't peaking at her voicemail log every other minute.

That, my friends, is respectable.

Sometimes when she is out on the town and she returns to her car she finds a message waiting for her. Yet, if she is with someone, well, the message can wait.

That, my friends, is respectable.

Some people I know check their email more times a day than they blink.. I suppose I do, too, sometimes.. if I've had too much coffee.. but generally I know there isn't anyone writing anyway, so what's the point? But these people - these cronic e-mail checkers - they're the first wave of the new age. These cell phone texters, these GPS enhanced PDA holders, these OnStar folk. These are the people at the front of the wave, in the foamy bubble at the head.

But that doesn't make them any less crazy. The front of the wave, if you'll remember, always gets crushed in the surf.

The CD was released into the North America in 1983 by Phillips & Sony and players initially cost around $1,500.

Yah gotta pay the cost

To be the boss.

But I don't wanna be the boss, I don't wanna pay the cost, and I won't.

Until cell phones work.

Until the FCC pulls it's giant head out of it's ass.

Until some of the fine technology in other parts of the world make it's way here - yes, it's true, the US of grand old A isn't top notch in every bedpost.

Until I decide I want to be found when I'm taking a nap..

in the woods..

on my vacation..

in Cambodia..

Which may in fact be

never.


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