I imagine a heroin (opium, crack, whatever) den closely resembles an office without DSL. Everyone staring at that one wire (needle, tube, whatever), wondering when it'll make the rounds...when it'll get to them...when they'll get their fix Standard rules of etiquette don't apply. Lying, crying and eye gouging commence. People say things like, "I'm literally about to die here..." The scene? Pretty horrific.

Then, like sunshine itself, our Pac Bell man / methadone dealer Carlos busts out the whoopin stick and shoves 384 KB of vaseline-laden DSL suppository right in the ol' bread basket and it hurts at first but then we just...we just...we just ahhhhhh..... The waters recede. People hold hands again. Talk of maypoles circulates like little pink birds. The birds...look at all the birds...so pretty...
posted by Fender Bender at 12:17 PM

rewind, yo.