My secret life as a whore

Note: This is day three of "guest column week" at Daily Ramblings. Paul is busy altering his leather chair so he can go to the bathroom in it without feeling uncomfortable. Today's column is by University of Wisconsin-Superior newspaper editor Kate Houlihan.

Oh hello, there. Can I tell you something? I've had this secret going on, and it's destroying me. I can't take it anymore. I need to tell someone. If I don't, I will surely shrivel up and die. Because this is killing me. It's like a disease, taking over my life in every, way, shape and form. I can't stop doing it, no matter how hard I try. It just keeps eating me alive. Because you see . . . I am a whore.

Now, I'm not your common, "live in the gutter, wear fishnet stockings and fire engine red lipstick, carry about every strain of the herpes-simplex virus and every other social disease" whore. No, no, no, folks. I am above that. That type of whoring is for amateurs. No, I am an AOL Instant Messenger (AIM) whore.

That's right, I am addicted to my AIM. I can't go a day without messaging at least three people. When I come home at night, the first thing I do is turn on my computer to see who's online and who I can spend most of my night chatting with. The sound of an instant message coming through to my computer is like pure orgasmic pleasure to my ears. The feel of typing random useless garbage to my friends for hours at a time makes my fingers tingle in anticipation. Yes, folks, I am an AIM whore. Plain and simple.

It's hard to think how one could not enjoy messaging online. Especially with AIM. First of all, think of all the fun and unique messages you can use to display that you are away. At last count, I had over seventy of them. For Kate, everything is an excuse to have a fun away message. Would you like to read some of mine? Sure you would.

Away Message #1,909,678: "I ran away to join the circus and become the next bearded lady. Why? Because I can. And it's easier than being an aimless whino."

Away Message #567: Wanted: One stunt double for Kate Houlihan. You must be a redhead, semi crazy and willing to put up with creepy stalkers. You will also be requested to speak intelligently. Homeless people are encouraged to apply. Send all inquiries to Kate in her cardboard box on the corner of Hammond.

Away Message #4,923: War is hell kids, war is hell. I'm resting and recooperating before me and my Desert Rats storm the capital. Leave a message. On to Baghdad!

Isn't that fun? How could you not enjoy making up such crazy antics as that??? I bet you're burning with jealousy as we speak (at least, I hope it's jealousy). Oh, excuse me for a moment. Someone has just sent me a fun instant message.

Phew! Thanks for waiting, reader! You're the best! Of course, there is the prospect of having a really long conversation without having to talk on the phone. Let's face it, the phone sucks. I hate it. No one ever calls, and when they do, it's always bad. But on AIM, you can just start a typin', and pretty soon, before you know it, about six hours has passed and you're half hanging off your bed, laughing your ass off over the fact that someone just send you a sound clip from Grumpier Old Men.

I would like to point out that I have had some doozies of a conversation. The longest one on record happened last December, when my friend and I stayed up all night to finish our final projects for school. We ended up having a 15-hour long conversation that when copied into Word was sixty pages long. (You know you need help when you start typing your conversations in 72-point font because your eyes are so tired they cannot see).

AIM also allows me to block people who happen to be pissing me off at the moment. I have a person or two blocked at the moment, because frankly, I don't want to waste any RAM talking to them. My computer is backed up enough, and my AIM time is valuable. I have a strict policy as to who makes it onto my chat lists, and I'm especially brutal with my AIM. I guess you can call me a high falutin', elitest AIM whore.

Finally, you can really mess with people's minds over AIM. Little thirteen year olds with their lame web cams like to try to proposition me to see them over AIM. I tell them to go home to their Jerry Springer caliber families. My friend and I also messed with some random girl one day by pretending we were going through a divorce. Trust me, it's good times.

So, as you can see, I am an AIM junkie. I need help. Badly. I need to go to AIMA - the messenger version of AA. "Hello my name is Katers1582 and I'm an AIM junkie."

OH NO! I just realized that after this May, I won't be in my cable internet set up apartment. I'll probably end up on dial up for awhile. Then what will I do??? No AIM all the time?????? I'm already going through withdrawals. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . .

Hello. My name is Gwedo. Kate was too distraught and busy messaging people to finish her column. She is lying in a shivering, drooling mass on her floor currently. Please take her sad, pitiful example as a lesson. Don't become an AIM whore or an AIM junkie. It all ends up wrong. Thank you.

Wednesday Music Spotlight: special edition! Yes, today is the retro edition of Wednesday Music Spotlight. Who's our special retro guest? I can't tell you. You'll just have to click the link and find out. Let me say that I think you'll all be impressed by my selection.

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