Oooooh, why do I do that to myself? WHY? So the Lady-love decides to go to the super-duper-mega-confabulous garage sale in Okotoky. That’s not the bad part. I, on the other hand, decide that I’m going to go down to the Babcia’s house and wire ‘em up with ethernet cable running hither and thither. That’s not the bad part. In order to do so, I have to taunt myself by going to work to get my spool o’ cable and my crimpers and risk that urge to read just one email even though I know very well it’s against the very nature of email to read just one, and in the event that you actually do stop at one, you usually stopped because the consequences were so brutally horrific that you sit in stunned disbelief staring at the monitor with eyes agape and a small trickle of drool running down your chin from the corner of your mouth where you teeth used to be before you swallowed them.
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