Jul 14, 2008

Thank God, For Me…


No really, hold the applause. I do it for the children. And margaritas. But mainly, the children. Who by the way, if they’d quit jumping around like a *&^%($#! sack full of tree monkies could carry my margarita. How sweet would that be? I’d be doing it for the children, who just happened to be carrying some frosty drinks.

But I digress. Here’s my point:

“Dana is very polite, honest and great buyer. Even I delayed the work but he cooperated with me in such a way that was impressive. I am really very thankful to dana for his cooperation, and also thankful to God that I got connected to such a Great man. Thanks a lot, dana”.

I said I wouldn’t cry. Tissue please….

Do you not love the guy who wrote this? I fcuking do, I may marry him. Dare me. I mean, can’t you just hear the truth in this guy’s voice?

I mean, I think he’s a guy. Hmmm, actually he may be a she. We’ve actually never met. But that’s beside the point says The Great Man.

Our connection spans time and distance. Which could explain why he/she/it was 10 days late completing a coding project for my website. But hey, when you’re a Great Man you can overlook the foibles of lesser humans.

What you can’t overlook is the fact this tech had my website files and could’ve burned my site to the ground. Which he/she/it clearly would never do, because why? See Great Man reference above.

No, my connection to my little Malaysian brother/sister/goat runs deeper than any simple cash transaction. It runs all the way to my credit card. Again, not the point.

We’re all family, connected by the unseen bonds of humanity. I could care less that my newest brother/sister lives in Malaysia. Or Hong Kong. Or for that matter, King Kong. Like the sisters said, “We Are Family…”.

Oh and did I mention the part about GREAT MAN. Just wanted to make sure you got that.

So next time you’re in Singapore or Calcutta. Hmmm, or um, Viet Nam just sit back, order a cold beer and tell ‘em to put it on the GM’s tab. They know who I am. And man, they love me there. Wherever it is. And uh, whoever they are.

Oh, and can you also ask them if they charged like $200 worth of internet porn, 7 quad-ban cell phones, a Pamela Anderson calendar and a George Foreman grill to my credit card?

*clink*

Cheers.

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