Spare me your contempt, all right?
Now what.Something's holding them up.These are my theories:
1. They're just sprucing up their Friendster account. But hot prospect Zac Efron look-alike goes online. And there's a must-see in YouTube. One must be current so as not to look like a retard in case this topic comes up around the office cooler.
2. They're challenged to a best of 3 game in DOTA. Must preserve reputation in Garena. Wimps they are not. Bring it on, I can almost hear the thirst for blood in their voices.
3. The Christmas season has lured them to the dark side. The siren call of materialism. Can't just do a darn simple task I ask of them just because I have not spread some goodies on the table for them to cart away when they go? I have no budget for this. Do you perhaps think its about time I sold my kidney to make a reasonable splash in the blogosphere?
4. Or I am dead wrong. They have come after all, removing their shoes so as not to leave any noise, careful not touch anything for fear they'd leave a trace of their DNA. One quick scan at my turgid posts and they're gone. They're confident that I have no idea about tracing IP addresses and if I ever bump into Google Analytics, never knowing what to do with it even if a month's supply of coffee depended on it.
Flash of insight: Okay, I'm alone. So what? To get you up to speed, I'm a reformed internet whore. It's no skin off my nose if you don't pay me attention. I can take care of my self. Sheesh.
Resolution: I'd rather cosy up to Mr. Google, and watch out for tell-tale signs that its cute spidey bots have finally come a-crawling my new home. Hello spiders. Pitter-patter into anything, except my cup of coffee, okay?
PS: Final call, are you coming or what?!
