Virtual Reflection

virtual_identity_by_virtualien

Why has an error occurred on my Twitter feed
Why can’t I remember my password
When did I fall so behind on my blogging
Why does my blood pressure rise a few notches
Each time I sit in front of my computer
How did I forget to send that email
Who keeps Googling me
What about privacy
What about anonymity
Why does anybody care who I am
Who am I
Why do I spend hours upon hours online
Why does my job support virtual connections
What happened to face2face connections
What happened to looking into someone’s eyes
What will my daughters virtual life be like
Will they feel comfortable talking or typing
What is my virtual life like
Do I feel comfortable talking or typing
Does a virtual life count as much as a real one
When will this screen and my mirror become one

Maybe they already are.

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Electronic You Died a Horrible Death

big-j

Yes you do usually send these emails, you are not sorry, and if you don’t send this email to 10 friends in an hour you will not have the luxury of hearing this

3-2-1

GO

You fucking whore
Who do you think you are
Sending me bad karma
Wrapped in bullshit
In the form of an email
You never call
Or write
Or take the time to say hello
Yet you think of me
When an email tells you
That you might die
Or not get paid
Or lose your chance to win
If you don’t forward it
To 10 of your so-called friends
Within an hour of opening it
Well A.) I’m not your friend
And B.) You’re going to die anyway
Bitch
Because I’ve had enough
And so has my email address
So you are no longer in my contacts
*Poof* just like that
Electronic you died a horrible death
I took you out
With the push of a button
I played GOD
It was fun

Now fuck off.

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Tokyo Pop

nekio.jpg

When I met him, he was really into anime. When I say really into anime, I mean obsessed to the point of distorted reality. I used to enjoy the sex, the costumes and the fake Japanese accents. It was fun… But then it got weird.

He was in between jobs having just been fired from the factory. He was sort of happy about it though, since being a poultry processor turned him into a staunch vegetarian. He was seeking new ventures, since there wasn’t another poultry manufacturer for miles.

“What about working on a farm?” he asked

“No” I said

“Why not? What’s wrong with working on a farm?”

“Well for starters, there’s 4 inches of snow out there and our rent can’t wait for you to find that perfect farm job. I can’t handle all of the bills alone on my waitressing salary.”

“What about a being a roofer?”

“Again Devon… Who the fuck is thinking about getting their roof re-shingled in January? Seriously… Just look at the classifieds.” I flung the paper at him.

“How are we gonna get to the convention next month? I can’t miss it… They’re releasing the special edition Fujiko Chin dolls.”

“How about you think about a job first?”

He stormed off to the kitchen and returned with his Neon Genesis Evangelion cup filled with Chocolate Milk. He slurped for a while before declaring “I need a job in anime. Nothing else is going to make me happy. It’s where I belong.”

I laughed condescendingly and said “NOT GONNA HAPPEN”

“Why… just because i’m not an artist?” he said

He left the room and slammed the bedroom door. I rolled my eyes and turned up the TV. He was in there for a while practicing one of his character impressions, I could hear him, although I’m almost certain that he thought I couldn’t.

He came out of the room about an hour later wearing something that resembled the leather guy from The Village People; his ass cheeks hanging out, hairy balls bouncing around and a leather whip in his hand.

“I’m not in the mood Devon.” I said

“Mood for what?” he said “I’m going out!”

“LIKE THAT?” I asked “You’ll get gang banged.”

“I won’t. I’ll drive there. I’m going to my anime club. They don’t mind. A lot of people dress like this. People aren’t judgemental about showing skin.”

“You’re weird…”

“That’s up for interpretation” he said.

I shuddered as he left the apartment. I needed a drink in a bad way by this point and headed to the kitchen to pour myself some sake. Of course we couldn’t just have regular beer or wine in the house…  It had to be authentic Japanese Sake.

I looked around our apartment at all of the Anime and Manga posters on the wall, the figurines, and the convention swag. My friends all thought I was crazy for allowing this stuff to qualify as decor in our house. The truth was, I kinda liked it (as much as I didn’t admit it to my girlfriends). Some of those anime bitches were hot, so I got to sport some pretty cool costumes and wigs.

But this… this latest gay rendition of anime fan psychosis. Leaving the house dressed like a desperate boy in need of a dick, was too much for me. Was he taking it up the rear on the side? I asked myself.

I got pissed on Sake and bitched to my girlfriend Stacey on the phone, while she urged me to find a man and ditch the boy. I told her that the sex (while sometimes weird) was really good, and that leaving wasn’t an option.  She, along with most of my other girlfriends, didn’t see the appeal. They didn’t know him like I did. They didn’t fuck him like I did.

He came home late that night, just after 1am. He looked a little drunk and tried to sneak into bed, not knowing that I was awake and dressed in my Rukia costume which never failed to make him hot. I stroked him a little bit and realized that his junk was already completely drained and non-responsive.

“You’re gay aren’t you?” I asked

“Kind of” he said before fading into a drunken slumber

The next day I ripped down all of his posters, and put all of his anime crap in a garbage bag outside of the apartment before ripping the covers off of him and kicking his ass out for good.

He tried to explain, but I wasn’t having it. For months and months I felt sick every time I saw anything that even remotely reminded me of anime. Which is why it was ironic, that I scored a job in anime soft porn, making fistfuls of dollars. It was my silently gay anime obsessing boyfriend, that made me an icon in Tokyo.

When Instant Messaging Goes Wrong

emoticons.gif 

me: hi

i’m b

o

r

e

d

b

o

r

e

d

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

she wakes up early every morning

just to do her hair now

because she cares y’all

her hair wouldn’t be righhhhht

without herrrrrr makeup

(she’s never outta makeup)

she’s just like you and me

mmbut she’s homeless

she’s homeless

………………………………

GIMME A “B”

B!

GIMME AN “O”

O!

GIMME AN “R”

R!

GIMME AN “E”

E!

GIMME A “D”!

D

X)

X)

K… you’re not listening

I realize that now

Powerless Against the Evil Force

Yes it’s true… Lingo Slinger is being unfairly targetted by an evil force (a force that is unholier than even I)… This evil force won’t let you speak… Won’t let you express yourself freely in comments… Won’t even let you observe what little expression has managed to slip through the Blogger cracks.

I don’t know what to do at this point… Comments are down. Can’t view or post!!! I am at a loss for ideas… I think it’s a Blogger bug, but nobody else seems to be having this particular problem.
All I can say at this point is…. MOTHERFUCKER!!!

UPDATE: Murphy’s Law was in full effect today… because just as I posted this, my comments started working again… Go figure… So hopefully our normal (if you can call it that) interaction shall resume. Knock on wood though people… Knock on wood.

NOT THAT KIND OF WOOD YOU DIRTY PERVERTS… And I said KNOCK… Not Stroke!!