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EPISODE XVI: Mum arrives at the limits of her expertise. - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
EPISODE XVI: Mum arrives at the limits of her expertise.
SCENE: the Writer is at her desk, screwing around on the Internet.

MUM comes in and waves a postcard-like piece of mail at ME, saying, "I hope you know what this is...?"

I take it and flip it over, determining in the process that it's blank because there's a seal on the side, which I break;

Mum: "Oh, it OPENS?"

Me: "...Welcome to Lifestyles of the Technology Challenged. I'm going to report you to the Internet, right now."

And so I am. >:)

In other news, I've been quiet all week because there hasn't been any other news, beyond that when the TV programming suddenly went from the 24 hour Swiss Guard Show to Cavalcade of Silly Hats on Saturday, my ovaries took it badly and tried to jump a waiter. I've been keeping them indoors since then, which they have reacted to by going all emo on me, wearing black nailpolish and retaining water out of spite. Must remember to lay in a supply of chocolate and salt for the inevitable "swearing like enraged stevedores" stages ahead.

Oh, yes, and we finally broke down and got a DVD player. (I think a solid week of nothing but PopeCam from one end of the dial to the other was the deciding factor for Mum.) While I'd like to be able to report that we carefully researched prices and models before comparison-shopping in six stores and finally buying the one with the blinky-lights because we were at each other's throats and wanted to go get something to eat, actually we mostly skipped straight to the buying the one with the blinky-lights step, because it was an exceptionally cool blinky-light. (I'd say we were being girly about it, but everyone else browsing that section was going, "Ooh, blinky-light!" as well, so there.)

When I came online just now to register the blinky-light machine, I decided, since it had been Mum's idea to buy it, to use her email address on the form. Which involved going to the page that connects to my email address, because I couldn't remember what hers was, since she doesn't use it and may not actually know that she even has one. [Spot-check, since she's right here making dinner: yes, she knows she has one; no, she doesn't know what it is.] Found 37 messages in my rarely-checked 'Bulk' folder, 26 of which were eBay spoofs and another 3 PayPal spoofs, all of which I meticulously sent off to the Proper Authorities just for the hell of it. Found Mum's email address, went to plug it into the form, scrolled down, and discovered that after all this screwing around, the form has not been updated to include the blinky-light model, so I shall have to send the card in by hand anyway. Bah, I say, bah.

Tags: , ,
feeling: blinky-light!

2 responses | moved to respond?
atlanticat From: atlanticat Date: April 15th, 2005 11:55 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
If you are interested, I would be happy to introduce the ovaries to blind friend Eric, who is your age plus X days. Just be so considerate as to take precautions so as not to produce offspring. Eric has no money for offspring.
robling_t From: robling_t Date: April 16th, 2005 05:05 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
{picturing ovaries telling him "oh, I'm 6'1", 125, long platinum-blond hair..."}
2 responses | moved to respond?