Posted by David
on Sep 12, 2006 in Upside-down Hippo
| 0 comments
OMG, I just voted in the primary election on a Diebold machine. It was all very spiffy, with a smart card and a touch screen and a whoop-de-do attitude. By now, my vote for the Democratic Senatorial candidate has been transformed into the bloops and bleeps of binary code, shaken around like the martini I so desperately need, and emerged as endorsement for George W. Bush, President For Life.
Just kidding. I don’t like martinis.
The woman who checked me in noted my birthday and said, “I guess your mama didn’t get to wrap no Christmas presents that year.”
And I said, “I was the best present of all.”
And she said, “I bet you were.”
Today, Apple is supposed to release its new fall line of products. With all of the secrecy and hype surrounding this announcement, I can only guess they will be unveiling the second coming of Jesus in an iPod form factor. If you buy an iPod nano, you will be raptured up to heaven, where you will dance as a silhouette against a neon background for all eternity.
Forgive my cynicism, O Steve, but I’m not in a good mood after that whole “Path to 9/11” thing that you didn’t stop like I asked you to in three separate emails. I guess my 300 shares of AAPL aren’t worth a hill of beans.
Of course, I will be buying one of everything you release today as soon as I can burn rubber to the Apple Store, but let’s pretend we both have enough decency not to mention this.
My nephew may be going home from the hospital soon. He lives in a plastic bubble and his name is Jaxon. With an X. He was born two months too early due to complications following a Cylon raid on the Galactica.
On our anniversary, Rob and I wandered into a quaint children’s bookstore and then didn’t feel comfortable leaving without buying anything. I bought Jaxon a book about zen life lessons as taught by a giant panda bear. The panda bear would tell Jaxon that it is neither a bad nor good thing that he has to live in a plastic bubble; it just is.
On the morning he was born, my brother called me and I didn’t want to answer the phone because I was afraid that the news would be that the baby was dead, and I was too busy crying.
I’m sure the panda bear would have something to say about that, as well.
Last but not least, we come to Goblin Foo, my own bat-eared baby who started gushing blood out of her little butt on Sunday. Rob and I took her to the pet emergency room, explaining the whole way that she would not be allowed to bite this vet’s face off as she did with the last one. But she didn’t listen, so we had to put her in a muzzle that was so large that it covered her whole face, including her eyes, and she looked like a cross between a grub worm and Hannibal Lechter.
After all of that, she is apparently fine, although she is on a complicated regimen of pills that need to be given at different times and with different amounts of food in her stomach.
Who knew they made a pill to stop a dog from bleeding out of its butt? Of course, I’m trying not to get my hopes up, as the pill to stop a dog from farting out of its butt has had mixed results at best.
And that is the state of technology in 2006. This has been a special report.