.
another one of those nights when you're glued to the computer like a moth frozen in a pure, simple electric ecstasy against the bars of a night lamp. More than a distraction the internet serves as something for your eyes and hands to do while you contemplate the vast night. Who was that girl you met at the bar, the one that smelled like raspberries, the one carrying the chimp? And who was the one armed man sitting at the bar, and where did he get those leather loafers and that fine white marble cane? You don't know and it's driving you crazy. You will have to go to the bar everyday for the next few weeks. You will have to question everyone you see between now and then, like some super desperate Louis Tully attempting to make conversation with anybody who will speak to him. Voraciously, eyes red with the passion of the hunt, shall you traverse the great fields of personal reference and human discourse. There is nothing which shall stand between you and the attainment of this exotic knowledge. key master indeed. Key master indeed.