I find it pretty funny that on this, one of the last nights of the decade, I'm chillaxing with my laptop and watching the 1998 "hit" You've Got Mail.
It's just so cute, the way they didn't understand the internet back then. Their little jokes about Windows solitaire, and their screen names, and their frequenting of "chat rooms" (let alone their
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Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday...
A Mo-hair couch?
Pacing the hall (with his dog) and eyeing the laptop while deciding if he wants to write back after he "stood her up"...
And yes, the dulcet tones of the modem handshake...
These are the images that pop to mind (and that's without even rewatching it)
S.Jo
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Sowie.
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Unless she's totally out of cash and "wants" him to make a mortgage payment on her giant New York apartment.
Doesn't it all seem like a neoconservative wet dream - what with the big "it's just business" conglomerate putting the little bookshop owner out of her self-supporting misery, and her thanking the man who made it all happen with a loving virtual blowjob?
I know. But I can't let it go.
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