Epifany
Lemme tell you a story:
Senior year of high school. I'm hanging out at Julia's pad with Molly. It's the weekend Julia's folks were away and we got to house-sit. A full weekend of hot pockets, bad horror movies, and bitching about people we hated.
One night, Molly plugs a CD into the player. I recognize the song. I recognize the next. To tell the truth, I know and love 75% of the tracks. I go, "Molly, what is this?"
Reply: "It's the greatest hits of Green Day."
I was a fan without knowing.
Flash forward to this morning. I'm checkuing email before writing, doing my thing. EW asks me to take a survey Who doesn't love market research disguised as pop culture surveys. I take it, and it asks if I regularly visit www.whedonesque.com
It get's me thinking. Why the hell aren't I visiting that site four times a day.
Answer: I am retarded.
Senior year of high school. I'm hanging out at Julia's pad with Molly. It's the weekend Julia's folks were away and we got to house-sit. A full weekend of hot pockets, bad horror movies, and bitching about people we hated.
One night, Molly plugs a CD into the player. I recognize the song. I recognize the next. To tell the truth, I know and love 75% of the tracks. I go, "Molly, what is this?"
Reply: "It's the greatest hits of Green Day."
I was a fan without knowing.
Flash forward to this morning. I'm checkuing email before writing, doing my thing. EW asks me to take a survey Who doesn't love market research disguised as pop culture surveys. I take it, and it asks if I regularly visit www.whedonesque.com
It get's me thinking. Why the hell aren't I visiting that site four times a day.
Answer: I am retarded.