Okay, lady. Two slices for you.
Do you call it "upcycling" if you add a semblance of class to the crap? A university in the UK is taking the opportunity to wire their campus for internet access. Via the sewers. You thought your ISP was crap - this one runs on shit. On purpose. Sliding through the underground, zipping along through the wafting odors of university muck, giving students the opportunity to deliver more crap to their professors. Remember kids: Fiber makes everything move smoother. I wonder if the future of hacking is to wear thigh-high waders and squish through the sewers to tap into the network from below. The sweet smell of evil success takes on a potent tang of wee.
Gotta be careful of the rats down there, though. Big, nasty pointy teeth, they have, dripping rabid with saliva, feening for the taste of fresh man. I heard they've changed the post-bite medical procedures, guaranteed to be better than the giant needle to the abdomen. A summer tan helps that white scar wink at me. Sometimes, when I catch a cold, I drool when I sleep and leave white, crusty, spittle bits at the corners of my mouth. When I was younger, I'd stumble out of bed, crusted and congested, moaning and sore with fever - my mom would totally freak out. That happened a lot, though, mom flipping out. I don't think she was all that prepared for a kid that rejoiced and cheered as the chicken pox spread over his torso like an itchy inquisition. No oven mitts taped to hands for me - I'd grow out my nails for a deeper scratch, red streaks criss-crossing my stomach with each clawed delight. Ah! Every itch felt amazing, transcendent and immortalizing.
I'm itchy just thinking about it.
Scritch scratch, baby.
God, that feels good.
Posted by StuR on August 20, 2007 06:25 PM | Permalink