My modem is a talkative modem. I know, I know, modems don’t talk, right? Well, mine does. Sometimes it gets sassy with me and I glare it into submission. When that happens I get a bit cross with it, but it all works out in the end.
the modem is slow. Too slow. I hate that stupid thing. But it does provide me with internet access. Damn it. I can’t work with it and I can’t work without it. What am I supposed to do? I think this problem needs a resolution.
An assortment of various machines activated. Suddenly, the room was filtered with a daze of bright awkward lights and different soundings of technology. its was highly advanced, and yet not anyone could touch their very fabrications.
she switched her modem on and logged into her super secret site. It was the understanding site, the one with girls like her. The one that talked about ABC and give tips and tricks , it allowed her to write out her greatest fears. It allowed her to be real.
The modem: something the more mature folk don’t quite understand. Me, a software student; I understand its look, its purpose, its more technical side and common issues that surround it. My granddad – “I take computer lessons, y’know!” – wouldn’t have a clue what it is. True, he’s somehow got some notion inside his head that the internet is a woman. How? I don’t know. He probably saw a photo/video of a woman on it or something and has understood her to be ‘The Internet’. No doubt he’d group ‘modem’, ‘internet’, and ‘computer’ as the same thing… but hey, at least his constant errors with technology make a good laugh.
The modem of the internet that connects my computer with the following media system, broke. To call the agency to make its functions work, is my worst nightmare, considering the bureaucracy that it is just to be answered by some attendent that may even not resolve my problem. The give me your code now disk number 1 for the desired option, and all these process just to talk to someone and be on the waiting call forever, I have no patience.
* ring ring*
it was around 2pm, and the phone started to ring. In fact, most of the electrical connecting devices were acting up suddenly. I came down stairs in a startled confusion, What on earth was happening…
ping, ping, ping, brrrr, ping, ping, ping. Finally, connected. Let’s see if I have an answer from my new chatfriend from last night’s locus chat. Ah no, hm, maybe any news in the hp forum? Oh yes, but now mum wants to use the phone, dammit!
The modem was stalled, broken seemingly beyond repair. The little black box no longer flashed small green dots. Instead, it stood inanimate, like a monolith built millions of years past.
My modem really sucks. It is always crashing. I wish I could use it more efficiently, but evidently the modem was invented to give a job to those IT guys who used to figure out how DOS works. My modem crashes and all the kids groan because their games die. I wish i could have a modem that worked as easily as my telephone. I guess that would be my dream invention.
My modem is so slow I think if you throuw it at some one it will only hit them the next day! Ah, sorry lame joke! No I won’t say sorry! Accept the lame joke….How do I know if the times up?
Driving calmly to the bank
The crisp July afternoon my business imploded
Feet cold, face burning
I squint through the windscreen
At the hypercoloured sky
She floats effortlessly
Like always
Bigger, closer than I had seen her before
Grey wings upswept
Like Eleanor Thornton, the ‘Whisperer’
Crying for her Love, her motherless child, on the bow of the ‘Persia’
Her gaze taking in everything and nothing
Hello Lovely
I inhale our moment silently to myself
The wind a cold current that sweeps into her silver body
Rocks her like a moored yacht
I have swerved erratically from carriageways
Leapt to photograph her
She never stays
But today, in the rear view
I caught her stall, pivot
a spectre plummeting into lush foliage
that grows beyond the gold tipped rushes
of lake Goollelal
My modem is a talkative modem. I know, I know, modems don’t talk, right? Well, mine does. Sometimes it gets sassy with me and I glare it into submission. When that happens I get a bit cross with it, but it all works out in the end.
the modem is slow. Too slow. I hate that stupid thing. But it does provide me with internet access. Damn it. I can’t work with it and I can’t work without it. What am I supposed to do? I think this problem needs a resolution.
An assortment of various machines activated. Suddenly, the room was filtered with a daze of bright awkward lights and different soundings of technology. its was highly advanced, and yet not anyone could touch their very fabrications.
In referring to the past, we used to say, ” In the old days…” Now the expression is , ” Back in the day “. So much for modern lingo.
she switched her modem on and logged into her super secret site. It was the understanding site, the one with girls like her. The one that talked about ABC and give tips and tricks , it allowed her to write out her greatest fears. It allowed her to be real.
The modem: something the more mature folk don’t quite understand. Me, a software student; I understand its look, its purpose, its more technical side and common issues that surround it. My granddad – “I take computer lessons, y’know!” – wouldn’t have a clue what it is. True, he’s somehow got some notion inside his head that the internet is a woman. How? I don’t know. He probably saw a photo/video of a woman on it or something and has understood her to be ‘The Internet’. No doubt he’d group ‘modem’, ‘internet’, and ‘computer’ as the same thing… but hey, at least his constant errors with technology make a good laugh.
The modern world has given up on its youth, claiming we are all ungrateful swine, yet never stepping up to reprimand those who do wrong.
The modem of the internet that connects my computer with the following media system, broke. To call the agency to make its functions work, is my worst nightmare, considering the bureaucracy that it is just to be answered by some attendent that may even not resolve my problem. The give me your code now disk number 1 for the desired option, and all these process just to talk to someone and be on the waiting call forever, I have no patience.
* ring ring*
it was around 2pm, and the phone started to ring. In fact, most of the electrical connecting devices were acting up suddenly. I came down stairs in a startled confusion, What on earth was happening…
internet browser working internet connect cable allow surf internet allow to connect cable company sets up can malfunction verizon fios optim
ping, ping, ping, brrrr, ping, ping, ping. Finally, connected. Let’s see if I have an answer from my new chatfriend from last night’s locus chat. Ah no, hm, maybe any news in the hp forum? Oh yes, but now mum wants to use the phone, dammit!
The modem was stalled, broken seemingly beyond repair. The little black box no longer flashed small green dots. Instead, it stood inanimate, like a monolith built millions of years past.
My modem really sucks. It is always crashing. I wish I could use it more efficiently, but evidently the modem was invented to give a job to those IT guys who used to figure out how DOS works. My modem crashes and all the kids groan because their games die. I wish i could have a modem that worked as easily as my telephone. I guess that would be my dream invention.
My modem is so slow I think if you throuw it at some one it will only hit them the next day! Ah, sorry lame joke! No I won’t say sorry! Accept the lame joke….How do I know if the times up?
a style of homes
a style of furniture
a generation
modern love
modern times
modern shows
modern hair do’s
modernism
post modernism
Silver Kite
Driving calmly to the bank
The crisp July afternoon my business imploded
Feet cold, face burning
I squint through the windscreen
At the hypercoloured sky
She floats effortlessly
Like always
Bigger, closer than I had seen her before
Grey wings upswept
Like Eleanor Thornton, the ‘Whisperer’
Crying for her Love, her motherless child, on the bow of the ‘Persia’
Her gaze taking in everything and nothing
Hello Lovely
I inhale our moment silently to myself
The wind a cold current that sweeps into her silver body
Rocks her like a moored yacht
I have swerved erratically from carriageways
Leapt to photograph her
She never stays
But today, in the rear view
I caught her stall, pivot
a spectre plummeting into lush foliage
that grows beyond the gold tipped rushes
of lake Goollelal
Buzz fry, jittery spasms of a brain joining others on the grid. Bring me things to eat, mind tube!
now, everything that is happening today, cool, capturing, expensive and progressive something that makes you feel alive. beautiful. nice