Tivo is probably the best thing that ever happened to me. Don't let my current--or past for that matter--girlfriend(s) tell you any different.

I wish I could say the same for my ISP. When I first moved into my new apartment, Time Warner was in the process of getting deep-throated by Comcast, and I was under the impression that my address was unable to get high-speed internet through Comcast. When I plugged my info into their website, it said that the address wasn't in the system. So, I went with my only other option, an option that's not so much high speed as it is, um, slow speed.

BOOYAH!

Last night I tried to download a Xbox 360° demo that was only 1MB, and it took over four hours. I probably could've driven to--and returned from--where the server on which the download is hosted in less time. Also, do you know how frustrating it is to download porn to watch the next day? When all you want is your porn and video games yesterday, it's very frustrating. Good thing I don't download my food from the internet, huh? HUH?

Anyhow, I went to the Comcast site today, and HUZZAH!, my address is now listed in their database. Here's how the day is gone for me, so far.

--Price out high speed internet, come to the conclusion that paying $60/month is akin to getting financially sexually assualted(because being financially raped is no joke, people). After a little further investigation I notice that, because my building pays $52/month for my standard cable, I'm able to upgrade to digital cable for only $15/month and get Fox Soccer Channel, and I really, really want Fox Soccer Channel. That's all I want by upgrading, actually, but the bonus is now I get Oxygen, too!

Plus, my high speed internet drops to $42/month because we all know that charging $3 less a month for two services over just one, well, that makes perfect sense. Perhaps that is why I wasn't a business major.

But when I try to order both services through the website, they require me to give them my 1st and 3rd born children, my right testicle, julienned and served with a nice vinagrette, and give them an absurd amount of money for "installation charge".

Fuck that!

Like I'm going to pay someone to trudge into my apartment with dirty boots(while I wait quietly in the bathroom because that's the only place to get away from anybody in my apartment) to perform something that I could do by myself. It's not like the technician has to connect the cable in the basement; I already have working cable, damn it!

--I decide to ask an online representative by chatting through the super awesome Comcast chat client. 45 minutes of waiting in queue--and one question by me--later, "Jennifer" tells me to call the local support number. Thanks for all your help, Jennifer!

--I call the local support number and talk to the most helpful person I've probably every encountered in dealing with customer service. She answers every question, calms every concern I have about paying out the ass, and even makes fun of herself when she fumbles over a word. And when she did fumble over a word, I could still understand her. Outsourcing, what?

She tells me everything that I wanted to hear; that I can, indeed, get out of paying all those stupid installation charges by picking up and installing the cable box and modem myself. Nice! She said that she'd put all the info in my file and the person that helps me at the service center would know exactly what was going on.

--I drive 20 minutes to pick up the equipment, and when I get there, the girl with the eyebrows shaded with permanent marker(black Magnum, natch) and the guy that smelled kind of funny had to tag-team my account to get me settled in. Why did it take both of them? Well, because the only information that was in the system was my name and phone number, and neither of them had any idea what was going on. Duh.

At one point the guy was trying to tell me I had to call the customer service again and have them take another order so that he could fill it, because I guess it was impossible for him to both take an order and process it to get me out the door. When I said that I already did that, he caved and gave me all the stuff I needed and sent me on my way.

Right now I'm staring at a digital cable box, a non-descript box that holds my cable modem, and a self install kit for my high speed internet access, thinking; what are the chances that I'll get all of this hooked up only to have it fuck up my Tivo, and ultimately my Season Pass to every show featuring that studly home remodeler, Ty Pennington?

I clearly did not think this all the way through.

I read this article and the only reaction I can muster is: Big fucking deal.

What does giving him the death penalty really do--for anyone? It's not like killing him or letting him sit on Death Row reverses what happened. When he's dead, the family isn't going to miraculously say; oh, now that he's gone, we can finally go on with our lives! It's about time!

Does the family ever get closure? I can't imagine how killing the man that murdered your daughter would make any of this easier to take.

If anything, this whole situation has made me question the purpose behind the death penalty. About the only thing I can think of is that it clears out that little corner of prison full of murderers and other evil-doers so that we aren't paying to keep them alive.

Does it do ultimately do much for the people that were hurt, or are still hurting? Fuck no.

The best way to describe my feelings right now is that I'm ambivalent. I think.

It's Wednesday, February 7th--do you know what day that makes it? Other than the 7th of February, you retards.

That's right; tonight is the premiere of the second third of the 3rd season of Lost on ABC. As much as it pains me to admit it, I really do enjoy watching the damn show and I can't hide that any longer. For me, it has it all. There's pretty scenery of mountains and oceans, mystery, scenes involving death of both primary and secondary characters(like they even had a chance), off-screen sexual encounters(my favorite kind!), hit pop songs (You all everybody is rock at it's finest), sweaty manboobs, peanut butter, and last but certainly not least, unanswered questions.

Questions like, why doesn't anybody ever complain about sand fleas? Why kind of other-worldly beach is it that doesn't have sand fleas, goddamnit? Fuck figuring out about the polar bears and odd magnetic field, I want to know where all the sand fleas have gone! And how can it be that Hugo hasn't lost any weight? Where does Sawyer recharge his beard trimmer? Lastly, how is it that Sawyer can have sex with both Ana Lucia and Kate without taking a machete to their unkempt jungle bush, you know, down there. Or is he letting them use his beard trimmer beforehand?

Gross!

Even though it's gotten to the point where I don't care about Jack or Sawyer's backstory any longer, or who Kate is going to love, drug and then subsequently desert, I still look forward to watching it each and every week. Come to think of it, I wouldn't complain one bit if all the main characters died(except for Hugo. I love that fat man like a gay fat man loves another gay fat man, or something like that) in a highly illogical and unexplained way so the writers could bring in a whole new cast and call it Lost II, Electric Bugaloo--that would be tits. Unfortunately, for me at least, that's not going to happen.

What will happen, you ask? Ah, you're on your toes today, dear reader, because I'm here to tell you the likelihood of a number of Island happenings. Ready? I'll begin.

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Number of times Jack gives his patented perplexed look after being told something that everybody already knew, including himself--4

Example:
Ben and Jack, talking in Jack's cell
Ben: "Jack, you were on Oceanic Flight 815. It crashed. You're on an island."
Jack, looking perplexed, possibly constipated: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

Number of references to "angel hair pasta" and "nerves" in the same sentence, said with a straight face--2

Instances where Jack, Sawyer and Kate are completely unaware that they're being watched by The Others via black and white video feed--1(they're learning)

New questions or storylines opened by the end of the one hour episode--7

Percentage of those involving Paulo and Nikki--0%

Number of times I ask The Girl "Who the fuck are those two?" when referring to Nikki and Paulo--11

Loose ends left untied--4,815,162,342

Shirtless Sawyer scenes--Trick question--he doesn't own a shirt.

Number of times that Sun screams out "Michhherrrrr!", or Micherr screams out "WALT!"(you can liberally swap that with a stonefaced "They took my boy!"), or Walt pines for "VINCENT!", or Vincent barks stupidly in the background--None, I hope. But to be fair, I'll set the O/U at .5

Number of times that a background bit player is referred to and we're supposed to know exactly who is being talked about (e.g;Scott and Steve)--1, but only because I loved me some Arzt.

Number of times that someone tries to steal Claire's baby, Aaron--0

Number of times that Claire screams "MY BABY!" just for the fuck of it--3

Number of times I scream "MY BABY!" during the entire episode--every scene with Claire in it, so just once

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Did I miss any?

So, after I get done with work tonight, I'll be tuning to ABC at 9pm in hopes that some of the unanswered questions are, well, answered. Like why someone as hot as the Hobbit would fuck Evangeline Lilly.

'Cause she's naaaaasty.