Super Issue Number 45!

I just remembered why I don’t use the internet at home, because it’s bragging that it’s connected at a mighty 26.0kbps. Yup. Pretty sweet. It’s got a hemi.

Alright, so hopefully you will get to read this and I’m not just complaining to Microsoft word, or more importantly, that little paperclip I despise. He thinks he’s so smart formatting everything into letter form or his stupid indentation suggestions. What a jerkface. What’s that paperclip? Jerkface isn’t a word? Would I like YOU to correct it for me? How would you like it if I bent one of your arms until it snapped off? HUH?! LIKE THAT?!? YES YOU CAN HELP ME… JUST DIE!!!

So, I hate series. They ruin everything. Once it’s collectable or continuing, there’s no way to escape it. It will haunt you for the rest of your days, it won’t let you sleep at night, and just when you think that you’re free from it, there’s something new, a twist, or the spring collection.

My Dad decided to get me a present. This is pretty rare, and more yet is the fact that it strays away from his ultimate goal of turning me into a girl. FYI he tried to pay for a manicure and ‘that girly stuff you should be doing’ on my mini-vacation. Instead I bought sushi and went test driving. Also FYI, never buy a mini. ‘Tis poo.

So on this rare occasion, he came to visit me at work, with a book. Not just any book, but Initial D. It, in short, is a Japanese comic about illegal street racing. Kinda cute, he thought, and it had a car on the front instead of some girl with really big eyes and a tiny little torso. It was all good at first, I read it, found it enjoyable, then somewhere along the way really began to care about Tak and his eight-six (Toyota Corolla) and all of his buddies. Now for those of you without addictive personalities this would not be a problem, you simply cast the book aside, yawn, enjoy the time you spent reading the first in a series that presently extends to nineteen, and be done with it. No. Now I need to find out if he’s able to use his panda Tureno to beat out K.T.’s RX7, FD. Curse you, Dad, curse you.

This is the problem with society. You buy something, all impulse like, and then they own you, it’s a need to continue the collection, to have a complete one despite the fact that there is no prize at the end but the cold and empty satisfaction that you won’t be able to get that time back or sell it for a tenth of what you paid for the whole lot.

It’s not only with books, though many of you are hooked on a little something called Harry Potter, Medicine woman. Or better yet you are into soap operas, collectable beanie babies, or Star Wars. Yes, whatever it is, humans get some kind of fulfillment of expanding their collection, to have more of the same thing, and to have more than everyone else. Why? Because we are suckers… but I’ll get to that in my next, special collector’s edition blog… GOLDEN HELMET AWARDS 2005!