Not only have I never been on eBay, I've never been on MySpace, though something tells me I'm not missing anything. Nor have I ever made a phone call using Skype, which despite my telecom background, seems like internet voodoo to me. Second Life is what I hope to experience after racking up high score on this life's quarter. And, truth be told, I'm not sure I can conceptualize "surfing" the net. Do people really ride a random wave from site to site? I don't get it.
My wife has asked the question "what the hell do you do on the damned computer?" more than once. Evidently not much, which doesn't seem to accurately account for the 8 to12 hours I might spend online in a given day. Ok, there's work, but that doesn't count. I mean after I log on in the morning and delete the 200 or so email messages that flooded my inbox overnight, I just sorta space out for an hour. Yeah, I just stare at my desk, but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch too; I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work. By the way, I think it's no small coincidence that Ron Livingston, aka Peter Gibbons, is now my company's spokesperson... well, that's the word on the street. (Editor's note: [sniff] ah, yes, the unforgettable stench of the copyright nazis, said the aspiring intellectual property lawyer. Link broken forever.)
So if it's not work, then what? Well, I'd like to think of myself as well-informed, but am deeply suspicious of the MSM, so I get my infotainment fix from the Drudge Report. I know, I know... Drudge has his days when his site reads like the front page of the National Enquirer, but I like the diversity in content. If I'm feeling political, I wander to National Review Online; Jonah Goldberg is the George Will for my generation. I might even take a gander at a Bill O'Reilly clip over on Fox. But the single greatest waste of my time is a cesspool of a UBB known as alt.games.warbirds. [old man voice]
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