I Remembered A Title This Time

The first photo is of the Spindle out on Harlem Avenue, I'm too lazy to erase it and besides, it looks cool. If only those were Comcast vans impaled there. Really, I was indeed answering my email for five days at a Kinko's between a Hooters and the Miami Motel, Home of The Four Hour Nap! (I'm posting the photo again as Charles seems delighted by it). There was also a Denny's close by, but that messes up the ambiance. We've pretty much been screwed since mid-August by Comcast and the aftermath of Hurricane Ike hasn't helped. Larry Up North said they've had no outages, but then, he lives near Wrigley Field and everyone gets taken care of there. In fact, the north side of Chicago had cable about three years before the south side, where everyone is pretty much poorer or, well, black. That was 1987-8, its the same even now. And forget the Lovecraftian south suburbs, I might as well live in Dunwich. So maybe I shouldn't dump on the north side, besides, I've been up there many a time and am a lifelong Cub fan and age is giving me a gut like Lou Pinella. Kinda. So bam! Saturday comes along, I'm reading an article about, hell, I can't even recall. Sid would know, he sent it to me. No, I was reading his journal entry on Paul Newman. Phone and Internet down, 11:30 AM. Mind you I'm working at the printing plant again, albeit temporarily and without a time card, if'n you know what I mean, so the first repair guy comes out while I'm at work Monday. He's on the phone with me in the bindery area, can't do a damn thing. I get home and find about all he did do was plug my Ethernet cable in backwards. I get a guy on the phone yesterday and he suggests something that, well, I should have known myself. Re-install the software. Comcast stripped Internet Explorer away into the night, leaving me with a zombie computer. Well, one that couldn't think. At least my zombie computer B.S. (Before Saturday) could think. I install three disks...and the computer SHUTS OFF. Like in a horror film. You know, where the sheriff says, don't leave, the computer is right there in the house with you, using a different modem!!! I freak out, but quickly realize that I had unplugged the monitor while snooping out my window. I need to register again, but now I have to get a new registration number so I cal India and get a guy who says his name is Tony in an Indian tone and I want to in fact say, Hey, Tone', but he wouldn't get the joke. And I doubt that Tony in India had a toothpick inna his mouth. Well, I'm typing numbers left and right like a cryptographer and zim zam biff, the computer boots back up, the Internet is there and I recover all my bookmarks and stuff. And realize that I have only whittled my 227 emails down to 103 while at Kinko's, though a few did show up later that night. And AGAIN with the Nigerian lottery guy. Well, that's kind of the whole story. Crappy south suburban hell, compared to prissy north suburban Stepfordism. I'll concede that the north side is pretty cool, they have used bookstores and comic shops and a place that sells old Starsky & Hutch trading cards, the bubble gum still in the package. Now I'm trying to get my writing project doe as I continue to work from 7 AM until about 3 PM. After this is posted, I'm going to eat ice cream and watch THE SARAH CONNOR CHRONICLES on Hulu, because, I'll tell you, if Skynet makes the Terminators using Windows Vista and Comcast technology, well, we are safe from world takeover, at least until all the banks go under and we go back to living in huts made out of our own poop.