Early Morning Head Revolving
Nearly a quarter to 6am, and I find myself talking about Zen-like matters with SF. Who I still have no idea might be. Okay, maybe a small idea. Still, he or she hangs in there. A close friend on a lark to buoy my spirits through fandom, or a complete stranger along for the WyW5 Ride.
We discuss the merits and drawbacks of The Abyss (not the movie, although I could do same.)
So far, he/she has managed to irritate the other folks who've commented on my last couple of posts, so for all I know, SF might even be an exceptionally bright Rottweiler with an advanced vocabulary, and who can type with their paws.
Soon, Microsoft will unveil an ergonomic keyboard for your pets. Big keys for dogs, little ones for cats, and very tiny ones for your parakeet. When hamsters can blog, that's when the Revolution comes in my opinion.
We discuss the merits and drawbacks of The Abyss (not the movie, although I could do same.)
So far, he/she has managed to irritate the other folks who've commented on my last couple of posts, so for all I know, SF might even be an exceptionally bright Rottweiler with an advanced vocabulary, and who can type with their paws.
Soon, Microsoft will unveil an ergonomic keyboard for your pets. Big keys for dogs, little ones for cats, and very tiny ones for your parakeet. When hamsters can blog, that's when the Revolution comes in my opinion.
posted by Stefush at 5:40 AM
5 Comments:
You don't know SF? I thought SF was your wife - my mistake. Oops!
No, Wifey (his choice of nickname, not mine) is not the infamous Stefush Fan, although he did ask if I was. I merely pop in and check out what all the fuss is about and make sure he's not saying anything horrible about me.
-The Wife
No, Squareslant, my wife is not Stefush Fan. Although she is loving my blog to pieces and tells me so often.
No, Wifey is a decidedly behind-the-scenes kinda girl, and even if she weren't, would never have the time to orchestrate an entire new blog dedicated to mine. If she knows who SF really is, she ain't sayin'.
So the mystery continues...who is Stefush Fan, and when will they get off their ass and buy me a freakin' beer?
Oh Stefush Fan, you can only be you. Willing yourself to be immolated in my fires is no way to live. What if I did the same for you? I shall create a Stefush Fan Fan site on Blogger. Soon, others will come. Others will want to know who is Stefush and who is Stefush Fan, and by that time there will be no distinction. Our mutual myopic blindness will engulf the world in chaos. No one will know who they are anymore, and deep doubt will set in.
Am I Stefush? Is Stefush within me? Soon, no one will feel strength in their own souls without the tacit approval of you or I. Soon, all will be a crushing inner guilt that bears the name (now forgotten as anything even resembling a real person) Stefush or Stefush Fan.
Still, we could probably get some hotties out of it. Which is cool and all.
The Blessed don't exist and neither do the Damned. Both are names of fear.
The Internet is no wound - would it be better to be tribal again in the real sense? Isolated pockets of humanity getting more and more set in their ways? Xenophobia Uber Alles? The Untied City-States of America?
Besides - when the final Stefush Entertainment Juggernaut goes all the way live, I'm going to still need a strong internet presence for historians, biographers and fans. The fast-twitch demographic will be my bread and butter, baby. And they're gonna want their Flash!
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