Monday, July 11, 2011

How it starts




Okay, I understand that, by virtue of my not giving a shit about Angry Birds or something called "blu-ray" [?], I am setting myself up for an inevitable tech senility in the vein of that my parents have and have had since about 1980. I have a Droid, which still gets a "hey! Fancy phone!" from the Nascar-farians I come across at 5:30 weekday afternoons (if this makes no sense to you, well, then, just remember vodka is the last stop!), and, given time, I can puzzle out the occasional odd function on a laptop. And I can blog! Had you noticed?


BUT here is where I truly draw the line in the silicon: electronic cigarettes. Driving across more than a third of this great nation these last two weeks, I have seen many, many advertisments saying "We have electronic cigarettes."


And here's the thing: I care SO very little about this miraculous new product that I can't even work up the interest right now to see just what the hell they are. I know from Dlisted that on some Housewives of...wherever that there was some scene with Kelsey Grammar wife chick yelling at someone about them. But that's about it.


And enough, really!


So, when I dodder along and get scarfed up by some LaserWraith (tm) or some other malevolent scourge six weeks from now, be sure to tell everyone I knew that I died fully on my way to not giving a shit about anything post-Soulseek.


Happily.

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