And So it Lives On: The Truth

I remember that long cold December night.

I was in Vermont, seeking solace from my self-imposed loneliness in the depths of the internet. I powered up my laptop, and headed out into the winter blizzard, the only place where I could find free wifi (thank you Johnson's, your unprotected network saved me $9.95). As I sat outside in the horrendous conditions (heavy snowfall, negative ten degrees, zero visibility), warmed by nothing but my overheating laptop battery and my favorite pair of tube socks, I contemplated what to do next. Suddenly, as if inspired by the muses of Athena, I determined that I should go converse with my friends in the Mit12 chat. I clicked the iChat icon, watched it do its little cute warm up dance and eagerly waited as it loaded. Go to chat, MIT12. It was empty! Nobody was there! A solitary tear fell across my face, freezing somewhere between my right eyeball and the bottom of my nose. I was heartbroken. As I looked up to the skies as to let out a shriek of agony I saw a star blink and fade away (actually it was a satellite). This starallite gave me hope and inspired a new resolve. I was going to revive the chat. So I sat there for hours upon hours, talking to myself and to my alter ego. Having long political debates and countless arguments on topics ranging from women, to love, to physics, to homeless people, to global warming, to fast food, etc. Finally, at the first crack of dawn, someone else signs on. I log off, and check out. Fainting in the snow, wearing nothing but tube socks.

The preceding was a true (read as fictional) account of how I saved the chat.

Anyways I am Maximus (sometimes known as Sean) and I approve this message.