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So I wrote another article for one of my school newspapers, but I don't think I'm gonna submit it. It sucks like a hooker on a penis. I gave it to my sister to read but she was like "It makes you sound like a total loser." Newsflash! I am a loser. Here it is anyways: Ahhh, the internet. My dearest and closest companion. Remember the good old days, when our relationship was still new and exhilarating? I�d rush home from school, cheeks flushed with excitement as I�d lovingly boot up the trusty 486 ready for an afternoon of devotion to you, my love. Before you, all I had were BBS�s. Bulletin board systems set up on a computer in some acne ridden lonely boy�s bedroom. I�d dial in, at a speedy 2400 bps, just to play text based RPG�s (that�s Role Playing Games for you non-nerds out there) like Legend of the Red Dragon and Usurper. Then one day, you came to my house. I just started to develop my crush on you, as Compuserve only let us spend 5 hours per month together. But I knew that I liked you. Remember how we�d sneak in extra hours of alone time after our time limit had expired? My angry father would confront me with the extra charges to our ISP bill and forbid us from having secret exchanges. We were like Romeo and Juliet, you and I. Our love was forbidden. Forbidden. When I moved out I knew you and I should devote more time to each other, so I got ADSL. Things started out innocently enough, but after a while you started getting �that look� at the end of the night. You wanted to go further. Beyond Disney.com and the MSN news page. You weren�t content with playing online Connect-Four anymore. So we rounded the bases. Erotic stories, then soft-core porn, then hard-core porn, but you wouldn�t stop. You started getting into the weird stuff like Sex with Toasters. I decided we needed a break. While we were apart, I tried to reignite my previous relationship with Reality TV, but all I could think about was you. I�d smile as I remembered the time you downloaded �Who Let the Dog�s Out?!� by the Baha Men and blasted it on repeat for our anniversary. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about the time you taught me how to download �Cotton Eye Joe� off Napster. Without you, I never would have started my website in 1999 (Aherm, http://amber.diaryland.com , hits please.) or found out that 33l33t hax0r means �elite hacker�. So we got back together. Admittedly, things aren�t as great as they were in the beginning. I�ve seen all the email forwards � the MasterCard ads, bad jokes, stare stare stare BOO! pictures, badly photo-shopped porn with watermelon sized penises� I�ve been to all the Dancing Hamster, Dancing Jesus, Dancing Baby, Dancing David Hasselhoff sites. Oh god, that was a bad internet trend. Except for the Dancing Hamster, because hamsters rule. Sometimes I sit at my computer, my fingers twitching in anticipation of a new url to type into my web browser. But there is no new url. No new site to checkout. Internet, I have reached your end. Even though I know all there is to know about you, I still love you.
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