My internet connection has been out all day. This. has. been. horrible. All those bits, just out of reach. My penis has shrunk from the mere absence of penis-enlargement spam. Tragic, really.

I spent a while imagining what was going on in my favorite websites: Slashdot heralding the arrival of the IPod Mike, CNN.com reporting that Osama Bin Laden and George W. Bush have fallen in love, and everyone abuzz over the new Angelina Jolie - Scarlett Johansson sex tape.

One of my friends describes living without the Internet as "camping". That's a pretty good metaphor. If I could replace my empty browser screen with a campfire, we'd be even closer. There's nothing quite like roasting marshmallows over an LCD monitor. Mmmmmm, raw.

I tried playing the game where you call tech support and they just suggest stupid crap until you eventually give up. Ok, I'll reboot. Yes, I'll turn my router off and on. Alright, I have now inserted the modem into my sphincter. I call this game Tech Support Twister. After I had placed my left foot on Blue and my right hand on Murderous Frustration, they finally informed me that there was a DSL outage in my area. I removed the modem from my ass and thanked them for their efficient service.

Then I tried using my dial-up service. Although it was technically possible for me to get my work done that way, it was hardly a convenient way to download porn. Those dial-up speeds are downright erection-losing.

Wow, a whole post on my DSL outage and nearly every single paragraph contained a mention of either my penis, my ass, or homosexual coupling. That's top-notch blogging.