Starr Ann is evil.
As expected, she stayed at Jodie Diamond's last night. Then this morning, I'm minding my own business, checking the lay of the world, letting a few ideas for this post roll around in my head. You've heard - haven't you - that Shrub is "disappointed" in the Iraqi government? Seems they have failed to meet some political goals. Poor Maliki. Wonder how he'd look in a play-pretend flight suit? His advisors should dress him up in something daring and script a "Mission Accomplished" moment for him.
Anyway, as I'm drifting around the Net, marveling at the poignancy and power of Mother Earth's presence on many front pages - the huge knotted fist of Hurricane Dean poised to strike...somewhere...who knows...maybe just some islanders...but possibly our OIL RIGS - and bleak dispatches concerning not one, but two cave-ins, on opposite sides of Her body. In Utah and all the way over in Xintai, Mother Earth has violently protested our uninvited digging around in her entrails.
That's when my Live Chat pinged. Yay. Most visitors seem hesitant to chat. But it's a new toy for me, and it's fun (particularly since I'm sure it contains no lead paint).
So, it pinged me. And who do you think was there? A user by the nickname Ben Berninke. I was polite.
"Hi, Ben! Nice to meet you."
"morning margo." [5 smiley faces]
"Guess I'm not the only one who gets up early on Sundays, huh?"
"i've been up all night worrying about what the markets are going to do tomorrow." [1 sleepy face]
"Are you a big investor?"
"you could say that. mostly i'm worried about which corporate buddies i should kowtow to."
I was just about to unleash on him about subprime lending and the fact that as thousands of earnest people started losing their homes, there was no real help in sight for them. But the markets start heading south and...
I got another ping. Gosh, it was the first time I ever had two chats going at once.
"Hang on a minute, Ben. I just so happen to have a little algorithm you might find interesting."
The second chat nick was Arundhati. Now, I'm lucid enough to know it wasn't really HER. But these online identities play hell with the imagination. Associations are associations, and no matter how many times you tell yourself to picture a pale, pot-bellied guy with bad skin who smells like old beer, if the screen name says Arundhati, your brain forces you to picture an articulate, beautiful woman of heroic sensibility.
"Hi, Arundhati! What a sparkling morning!!!!!"
"Yes, beautiful. What are you wearing?"
Okay. I may be slow, but I'm not stupid. Starr Ann and Jodie Diamond were obviously taking a fuck break and decided to have a little fun with me.
"Oh my, Arundhati. I feel so inexplicably inclined to be perfectly honest with you."
"Then tell me."
"I'm wearing my best friend's tan chaps. The ones she has forbidden me to touch."
Both chat rooms slammed shut and I haven't heard a word since. Heh. If Jodie was all settled in for the morning, thinking they'd be going back to bed, she can forget it. Jodie Diamond is about to get her first lesson in Starr Ann's priorities. I'd better get going now. Gotta find those forbidden chaps and have them on when Ben and Arundhati get here.
