If You're Still on Dial-Up and You Know it, Say a Curse!

Beep. Beep. Dial tone. Beep. Static. Beep. Ding! Alright! Headway!

Sound familiar? It should, if you're still in corsets, long Johns, and refuse to show your ankles in public. That, friendlies, is the sound we grew up with: Dial-Up internet. That is also the internet type I have to use every Thursday. How nostalgic!

It's become tradition: wake up extremely early for masochistic reasons, lumber through double calculus and and physics, then leave school a.s.a.p.. Get home just in time for iPod battery to die, take 3 flights of stairs cause that HoHo wasn't particularly necessary. Open the door, hug mom, flop onto bed, turn on laptop, try to log into MSN to check offline messages, but, oh, it's Thursday! Settle for a weekly viewing of a Harry Potter DVD of any choice. Once that's over, call the landlord, tell him to do something about the internet, then get hooked up to the phone that has not been used for two years. The end!

Sigh. Well, better than nothing. I do live in Africa after all.

Isn't that Kureiji?