Real Men of Genius

Here's to you, Mr. Instant-Messages-His-Buddy-Half-a-Second-after-they-log-on.

You make sure the phrase "in touch" retains its bitter irony. The conquistador of the keyboard, you feel that "bugging" your friend is the best way to show that you care. You instant message people more times before 8 am than most do in a week. Your finger jockey skills have come from years of internet stalking. Those predatory digits attached to your wrists move so fast, they make Jet Li look like the snail from Spongebob. In fact you move so fast, most recipients of your "LOL, LMAO, Sup!" think that there is a robot on the other end of the keyboard. Sadly, no, its just you. Whats that you say? Breaking news? Nope. Just writing to tell me that you polished off a sixer in the parking lot. Thank heavens, for a second, I though all those little problems like world hunger would have gotten you down.

So here's to you, Mr.I-yadda-yadda. If I wrote the whole name again, I'd have to wallow in hypocrisy for the rest of this foresaken day. Have a beer on me today. Or twelve.