Dear Internet
Dear Internet,
Why must you always tempt me with your temptations? You know I am a man of the Gods, and do not take kindly to suggestions that I should refinance my mortgage now. I am quite happy with my current mortgage, thank you very much. If the Gods felt that I needed a new mortgage, They would provide one for me. They would certainly not inform me through an e-mail message filled with spelling mistakes and smelling of moldy bread.
I also rely on the Gods to meet my pharmacological needs, as well as my watch needs. I don’t need your help in those areas, Internet. If I bought all the drugs you want me to and all the authentic replica Rolex watches you want me to, I wouldn’t be able to afford the Internet any more. And then where would you be? If an electronic tree falls on the Internet and I’m not around to hear it because I couldn’t afford the Internet, does it make a sound? I didn’t think so. You better think about things like that next time, before you try to get me to spend all my money.
And money. That’s another thing. Why do you keep sending me checks for thousands of dollars, Internet? If the Gods wanted me to be that rich, they’d send me the checks personally. But since the checks come in envelopes with a return address of “The Internet”, I know they aren’t coming from the Gods. They’re coming from the Internet. The money probably comes from porn or gambling or chuch bake sales or other such tools of the devil. As such, I will have no part of it. Take your sinful money back to Mt. Saint Helens where it came from, and be done with it!
You know what else would be nice? If you could keep the crappy part of the Internet in the same place each year. First it’s AOL. Then it’s Geocities. These days it’s all over in Myspace. Can’t you just keep one spot for people to make their crappy web sites, and leave it at that? Must you keep rearranging the Internet in ways that we can’t predict? Or at least publish a guide to this year’s Internet redecorating project, with some kind of crosswalk telling us where our 2005 Internet locations have moved to for 2006? It’s the least you can do if you’re bringing someone in to redecorate the place every year. Humans aren’t meant to deal with that much change that often.
Speaking of change, why do you keep trying to kidnap my dog, Internet? Please stop it. I like my dog, he’s very furry and playful and fun and his poops taste like peanut butter. If you take him away, I’ll be forced to play with someone else’s dog, and I’ll have to actually go to the grocery store to buy peanut butter. This sounds like hell to me, and I know the Gods wouldn’t want me to live like that. So stop trying to kidnap my dog.
Thank you Internet for taking the time to listen to my writing. It makes me love you even more than I already did.