It’s Saturday night, and I’m on the couch, rocking the internet from my laptop (more on why this is remarkable in a second), and I’m watching a show called "Sexy Cam." Well, for the record, I’m not really watching the show; it’s just on in the background. Turns out, it’s just like the Just For Laughs gags show, except that the gags all end with some woman in her underpants.
God bless French language TV.
So, this is really meant to be a shout-out to Grandma’s Buddy (who doesn’t actually read this, so it’s more for Sarah’s sake). We picked up a wireless router many moons ago, but we (or at least, I) ran into problem after problem with it. Dropped signals, couldn’t connect, the desktop (directly connected to the modem) would shit the bed… When it comes to stuff like this I’m really just winging it, and my winging it was not working. Time and time again. So after months of this GD router totally not working, Sarah’s dad came and fixed everything in about twenty-five minutes. It seems there were two problems: 1) I’d fucked around with the connections so much that my firewall thought we had fourteen computers connected to the network; and 2) my direct connection and my wireless connection had the same name (the completely original ‘default,’) and the computer was totally confused about which connection my laptop was on.
—For the record, Sexy Cam just went past the underwear barrier. Now I feel dirty.—
So.. long story short, all is well now. We’re ready to make the Movie Marathon a madcap multimedia experience. (Sort of. More on that in a later post.) Before I forget though, I wanted to tell the story of Grandma’s Buddy. (Sorry. I'm a little scattered. I’m in my cups here, at least a little.) When we got the cats, Sarah and I started to call each other—at least in front of the cats—mommy and daddy. (Yeah, yeah, you take a minute to throw up. I’ll be here when you get back.) Anyhow, we extended this joke to our parents. We told Sarah’s parents and they laughed. We told my parents and they said, “Ha ha ha! Yeah, don't do that.” But they weren’t the last to rebel. After a few days, Sarah’s dad let us know that he wasn’t too fond of the Grandpa thing. I mean, he loves the cats, but I think it was just a little too cute for him. He insisted on being called ‘their buddy.’ So now, when her parents are coming over, we always say to the cats, “Guess who’s coming? Grandma and… your buddy,” which occasionally becomes ‘Grandma and her buddy,’ which seems very wrong because it’s sort of like, “Grandma and her boyfriend,’ or ‘Grandma and her gentleman caller.’ Maybe some of y’all have had Grandparents who eventually had ‘late-life companions,’ but we haven’t, so it weirds us out on all kinds of levels.
God bless French language TV.
So, this is really meant to be a shout-out to Grandma’s Buddy (who doesn’t actually read this, so it’s more for Sarah’s sake). We picked up a wireless router many moons ago, but we (or at least, I) ran into problem after problem with it. Dropped signals, couldn’t connect, the desktop (directly connected to the modem) would shit the bed… When it comes to stuff like this I’m really just winging it, and my winging it was not working. Time and time again. So after months of this GD router totally not working, Sarah’s dad came and fixed everything in about twenty-five minutes. It seems there were two problems: 1) I’d fucked around with the connections so much that my firewall thought we had fourteen computers connected to the network; and 2) my direct connection and my wireless connection had the same name (the completely original ‘default,’) and the computer was totally confused about which connection my laptop was on.
—For the record, Sexy Cam just went past the underwear barrier. Now I feel dirty.—
So.. long story short, all is well now. We’re ready to make the Movie Marathon a madcap multimedia experience. (Sort of. More on that in a later post.) Before I forget though, I wanted to tell the story of Grandma’s Buddy. (Sorry. I'm a little scattered. I’m in my cups here, at least a little.) When we got the cats, Sarah and I started to call each other—at least in front of the cats—mommy and daddy. (Yeah, yeah, you take a minute to throw up. I’ll be here when you get back.) Anyhow, we extended this joke to our parents. We told Sarah’s parents and they laughed. We told my parents and they said, “Ha ha ha! Yeah, don't do that.” But they weren’t the last to rebel. After a few days, Sarah’s dad let us know that he wasn’t too fond of the Grandpa thing. I mean, he loves the cats, but I think it was just a little too cute for him. He insisted on being called ‘their buddy.’ So now, when her parents are coming over, we always say to the cats, “Guess who’s coming? Grandma and… your buddy,” which occasionally becomes ‘Grandma and her buddy,’ which seems very wrong because it’s sort of like, “Grandma and her boyfriend,’ or ‘Grandma and her gentleman caller.’ Maybe some of y’all have had Grandparents who eventually had ‘late-life companions,’ but we haven’t, so it weirds us out on all kinds of levels.
Comments
(And I only find it mildly disturbing that the cats call you two Mommy and Daddy.)
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Grandma's Buddy rocks at BASIC.
Glad to hear that he was able to fix your router. =)