Remember that job that I had around my birthday last month where I had to interview people over the phone? If that job taught me anything, it's that old people who participate in phone surveys HATE the internet.

Every time I asked them if they used the internet as a source of information for anything, their reaction was one of utter revulsion, as if the internet were a personal affront to everything they hold dear. I mean, it really wasn't even that they might calmly say "Well, young man, I really have no use for the internet." It was as if I asked them if they used a Portable Fetus Aborter.

If you lack an absolute truth in your life, rest assured that the very concept of the internet, and the fact that it exists, sends the elderly into a blind rage. Grab onto that and cherish it.

That is, of course, excepting the 89 year old ladies who go online with screen names like 'HotKitty4u,' seduce you over a course of several months, send you misleading pictures, and then act all innocent when you finally meet them at Denny's.

Perhaps I've said too much.

Anyway, I've been debating whether or not to share the tale of picking up my girlfriend at Midway airport Sunday night. It's an epic adventure fraught with intrigue, hardships, romance, and hippies. Unfortunately, the full version is as long and as intricate as someone's stupid dream or shitty poetry, so let's see if we can do this in Haiku.

Ah, see? That consumed far less precious time than it could have. Now you are free to go back to thinking about sex.