It's Saturday, and what follows is the sort of trouble I get up to when I have no pressing deadlines.
My good friend 163478, prone to forgetfulness, left his ipod here when leaving my house yesterday after more Who watching. Seeing as my Ipod presently lies prone in a drawer (only 1 1/2 years old!), broken and unusable (ggrrrrr I hope you Apple fuckers are reading this) I have taken advantage of this to enjoy a day of gratuitous shuffle at 163478's expense.
And as my heinous crime (outlined below) will never make the papers, denying me my fifteen minutes of criminal fame, I post this email, sent to him, outlining my demands for its safe return.
Now. It occurs to me that what we have here, dear 163478, is a hostage situation.
You see, until I receive my ransom (one mixed cd of a memorable and 163478-standard quality), your ipod will remain in my possession. Your actions alone can determine its fate.
Until such a time as you yield to my demands, I am holding your ipod here hostage.
But I am a benevolent captor, rest assured, and, seeing as I'm sitting next to it at my computer puttering away, I shall heretofore record, via email, what songs it sings to me in its shuffling state, to reassure you of its well-being.
So off we go.
...(listing of various songs of an admirable and highly entertaining quality, courtesy of 163478's ipod.)...
i have to go for brunch now. I'm leaving a bowl of water by this ipod and it's shackled to the speakers. The place is booby trapped and the walls have ears. Don't even TRY to come get it.
i wonder if this is how divorcees deal with their assets. You know, like:
I'M PISSING ON YOUR COUCH RIGHT NOW YOU FUCKHEAD, GIVE ME BACK THOSE PILLOW SHAMMIES.