Tuesday, October 11, 2005

"Ah," thought Brendan, sitting at his Ikea-esque cube in the farm of cubes, feeling rather like a salmon, peering on occasion out at the staircase in the lobby beyond the dwarf that looked less like comfortably carpeted stairs and more like an upstream battle, "she's turned on us; she is no longer interesting in the slightest; she doesn't write about gaming or porn or shitting anymore. She's a SAHM; in time, she will start using other annoying terms like DH (dear/damn husband) and the DS, DD, DC, MIL, FIL, that follows; she will cry about PMS, laugh at romcoms, delight in the new Helen Fielding, link to iVillage articles, call her period AF (Aunt Flo! How charming), discuss the worthiness of good ole bleach and Ajax - doesn't Meg Ryan have a new movie out soon? Oh goodness, I'll definitely IMDB that, LOL! LOLOL! ROFLOL! ROFLMAOLOL! ROFLMAOHFTCFLOLOLoloLOLOloloLOLOOOL!!!1!!!111!one!"

...as his finger deftly right-clicked the samoose link on his Bookmarks list and rolled the cursor down to delete

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