September so far

My sister got married last weekend. The DJ at the reception played such yester-hits as “The Twist” and “Shout!” and “Twist and Shout,” as if to say, “Alright, Aaron, you anti-social, snobbish luddite, I’m meeting you half-way!” To which I responded, “Okay, fine, I’ll dance with old people.”

In other news, Mike got the key to “our” house, which of course is really “his” house, that is, after he pays the bank however many million dollars real adults pay each other for such things. Here he is attempting to open the front door. Aww. Remember when you had trouble unlocking whatever place you’re living in right now? Aww. He’s threatening to fill the dining room with a dining room table to facilitate his dust collection unless I can think of a better idea for the room. So far, practical suggestions like “computer room” and “vomitorium” have been vetoed.

Would you believe that my uncivilized word processor doesn’t think “luddite” nor “vomitorium” are words? And would you be disappointed to learn that “vomitorium” doesn’t mean what I thought it meant? And how come less than a month after coming up with some stupid webspeak term, people are already polluting minds with masturbatory websites and t-shirts? These are sad times indeed. Shakespeare must be rolling in his grave.

Oh, yeah, and Ajax, you can have my decrepit PC after I’m done transferring files. Not the monitor, though. Too many memories.