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I desire broadband access to my feet!

Quibbled about on March 27, 2005.

I am so glad the pincer monkeys did not come to take away my nostrils on Y2K Day. I thought about it… Why Y2K? Good riddance, last century. Good riddance, armadillo man! Good riddance, amazing goat-riding speaker system! Good riddance, stupid screaming stars and singing spiders that have haunted my life since time immemorial, good riddance to each and every fish, squash, zoo animal and lampshade that ever lambasted my varnish! Nice to have known you, Englebee Troobles, but I no longer seek you! I converge on the world of communications! I desire broadband access—to my feet—for people who know my car best!

I arrived in Chechnya on Thursday to discover a war going on and that it would be quite impossible for me to find this elusive Englebee Trooble who loved Alyssa Milano’s cute little feet. I traveled around Chechnya for a while on the back of a beanpole-underwriting Russian tank, until I had completely canvassed and surveilled the entire breakaway republic. I got the everyday web from MSN next. And some delicious MP3s—and Alyssa Milano and her feet.