2003-06-20 - 12:12 a.m.

Three entries in one night. If I wasn't so impatient I would actually open up a document and think a little before I go spewing and posting. One long one would be better, but you know.

I keep getting these annoying popups for security internet thingies. (Clearly, I don't read the fine print) And they all say something along the lines of "Keep unwanted eyes from tracking your internet activity. They can see EVERY WEB SITE YOU"VE EVER VISITED" and I think, "Is this supposed to alarm me?" I mean, what the fuck do I care who sees my INTERNET ACTIVITY. What kind of web sites do they think I visit? I don't think anyone is going to arrest me for visiting Diaryland, citysearch, and the occasional white bread soft porn site. I mean, really. And then I started thinking how I'm just not their right target audience, I have the exact reaction they don't want, and I remembered something.

When I was a kid, I was at the mall with my brother and my Mom, at Se@rs maybe, and we agreed to do some taste test thing they were doing. We were pretty psyched, my brother and I, because June Cleaver was, well, June Cleaver, and this was not in her usual reportoire. They brought us in a room with a bunch of other people, and they brought out olive green cafeteria trays with three small dessert dishes. In one were some canned peaches, unadorned. In the next, melty vanilla ice cream, unadorned. On the third, a glowing, crimson Jell0 parfait, the jello cut into the kind of shimmering cubes you see in magazine ads, topped with fluffy whipped cream and a cherry, and they ask you to choose. I chose the peaches, because the ice cream was melted, and I like canned peaches (June was a fan of the canned peach. Fruit cocktail, too) and because I DON'T LIKE JELL0. They surrounded me, what seemed like ten but was probably two of the survey-takers, and they questioned me. Until I said that. I DON'T LIKE JELLO. And I don't remember what happened after that, but that's all we need to know for these purposes, I think. I don't have to tell you whose taste test it was, do I?

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