I was told the internet has built a time machine solely so that people can post photos of themselves going back in time and hugging the inventor of the cowboy hat on Tumblr.

Then I was told the internet is a great place to smell jerky burps. Turns out that’s true.

Later, my Uncle Anderson was arrested for strapping an internet to his midsection, blindfolding himself, and running full speed towards a line of police officers screaming, “I WANT IT TO BE PART OF YOU, I WANT IT TO BE PART OF YOU!”

Early the next morning I wrestled an internet to the floor and threw it up against the wall 6 times when I caught it stealing my wake-up dreams. It ran under the bed vowing to return with a motorcycle and three of its friends.

Stepping into my own yard, which is normally full of grass and birds and peace and fruit trees, I was shocked to find an internet had replaced it with a carpet wholesale warehouse, adequate parking and loading dock.

I will never get another internet again, even with a coupon.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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