Twisp and Catsby in: La Marche Des Souris
My DSL has been out for the better part of two weeks, and only downtown, phone system blood magic would set it right. I've been uploading my post to your distant webs in the eight seconds between circuit failures, in the modem's shuddering moment of awareness, before it plunged back beneath black waters. In the process, I've learned a lot about myself. I've learned that I love bandwidth and hate outage.
As a result, I've spent the weekend in a kind of trance, earning five levels in two play sessions and generally being up until four every night. I feel as though I have drawn the beaded curtain aside and entered a realm whose blue light and exotic odours do quite wrestle with the mind.
The art auction appears to have reached some ridiculous apex now at eight thousand, seven hundred dollars. We don't ever see it, the transfer goes direct to the charity in question, which is a good thing. A check like that, you know, a man could just snuggle with it for awhile. Get to know it.
People cautioned us about doing "business," such as it is, with PayPal for the charitable donations. PayPal sucks, and I have heard it suggested that Paypal may be operated by Al-Qaeda. Over the year and a half we ran the site on donations, the only time money wasn't accessible is when someone tried to brute force our password. Child's Play 2003 and 2004 both leveraged the service without incident, and we're talking about sums in excess of thirty thousand each time. If we should run into trouble with Paypal, please believe that our lawyer is on speed dial. I attended a case litigated by the man just over a year ago, and I won't keep you in suspense: his strong jaws closed around the defendant's neck, and after a few moments of violent shaking to ensure compliance he dragged the fucker into a tree like a savannah cat.
(CW)TB out.
