|Keeping in Touch.
||[Jul. 25th, 2003|07:03 am]
|[||In the Moment
|||||Richie Hawtin - Live @ Sonar 2001||]|
The following is a transcript in an attempt to maintain contact with one Samantha, an ex-worker who happens to be a strange and wonderful friend.
Don't ask me how long I've been doing this. I may have been drinking at the early AM dispatch of this Message In A Bottle, but I can't remember . . .
Subject: Dammit, Samantha.
Hey there . . .
No this isn't spam. I can't tell the difference anymore, so hopefully you didn't delete this.
I trust you are now in complete enjoyment of what is the Post Partum *Ex-Company* Experience.
I trust you are well, and good, and do love me like a sister should.
Should you be futzing around online, you should catch:
Open up a web browser and see the latest installment.
I have had a bad back, and like I always do, I tend to be a word-farty kind of shmuck.
Oh, and the comment about "The rest of you can go to hell."
Actually, that's not intended for you. The drinking of alcohol does strange things to the generally whip-smart mind of a desparate and otherwise weird in a good way person.
Should you also fancy a blog, you should send me the link. If you haven't began to opine of the daily laundry online, if you wished, I'd actually buy a subscription to this particular one, which would allow me to allow you to generate your own free account. I love it so . . .
Know that I love you, and I always will. If you have a boyfriend, no, I'm not trying to sleep with Samantha. I can't even call her by her correct nickname because I like the word Samantha better than anything else besides the name 'sister.' That should spell a hint, too. Also, I love a certain Heidi, and I'm a monogamous blowhard pseudo-eunuch.
Yes, Samantha, may the Force be with you.