Internet Ink
The blood we shed voluntary from the 26 veins of our laptops onto the Internet, the blood that leaves behind permanent stains on the carpets of our lives, permanent scars upon our reputations--our entire life stories and livelihoods serving as transfusions overfilling the veins that pump our vanity, delude us into believing our Facebook status amounts to more than 2 shits and a misfired cumshot that missed a face and hit the wall behind it. Privacy is a relic of the past, and everyone has to use the Internet, so be careful what you post. It's irremovable ink, and it can come back to bite you in the ass at any time.
Me: "You just wasted your life on the internet trying to convince people that you're someone. But you're unemployed, pissed your tuition on Natural Ice and have joined the endless ranks of manure for brains late 20/early 21st century Westerners living inside a cyber space galaxy, far, far, away."
-Jagoff of my generation: "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
-Me: "Yeah, me neither. I'm a drug addict."
-Jagoff of my generation: "Urban Dictionary says you have to include the word you're defining in this example box."
-Me: "Why?"
Jagoff of my generation: "I dunno."
-Me: "Ok. Internet Ink."
-Jagoff of my generation: "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
-Me: "Yeah, me neither. I'm a drug addict."
-Jagoff of my generation: "Urban Dictionary says you have to include the word you're defining in this example box."
-Me: "Why?"
Jagoff of my generation: "I dunno."
-Me: "Ok. Internet Ink."
Internet Ink by Edgar Allan Pill Popper February 20, 2011
