The Bitwise Operator

Hello, Internet? It’s me, Ben. Let me make love to your e-holes…or is that passe? Should it be i-holes? Or iHoles, in this newly Apple-dominated iWorld of ours.

Consider this part of the “I’m so sorry I haven’t written in so long, Dear Diary” oeuvre that is the staple of 99% of all diaries and blogs, online and off. Been busy; sorry. Get off my back. Not everyone can cater to your every whim. Everyone is busy catering to my every whim; people like the Teriyaki joint in my office building, and Shakira. That’s right, there’s a whole industry of whim-catering going on, and none of it’s for you. I say “I wish there were scantily clad unbelievably smoking hot Latinas on television every 10 minutes shaking their ass in physics-defying manners” and lo and behold, whim catered to.

It’s gotten ridiculous with the constant gratification these days. I don’t know if it was always this way, but I could pull into any large city in the world, eat a cheeseburger, shoot heroin, get a lap dance and watch the travelling company of “The Producers” all within about 3 hours. It’s all there, just waiting for our whim. A guy like me, who has the willpower of Elvis, it’s hard. Seems like in the old days, there was plenty of guilt and nasty stares to keep someone like me in line.

Where are the Pharisees when you need them?