Showing posts with label email. Show all posts
Showing posts with label email. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

The Day the Email Died

The little-known Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, Technical Difficulties, paid a visit to our world last night and knocked out all of the Blackberries in the western hemisphere.

If by some miracle you are even able to read this, you must be accessing the internet with something called a "computer"...which a lot of Blackberry owners might not remember is a machine that was invented around the same time as the butter churn. Get the word out to as many people who were victimized by the outage as you can, show them that a computer--while not nearly as cool or portable as the Blackberry--can help assuage some of the trauma they're currently experiencing. If employees in the entertainment industry, the legal profession, and/or on Wall Street aren't able to communicate electronically...what's the point of even living?

UPDATE: The nightmare is over. Let's do what we can to pick up the shattered pieces of our lives and get back to not speaking directly to one another as quickly as possible.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Crazy Diaper-Wearing Astronaut Lady: The Sexy Emails Factor

Earlier this month, when the news broke that astronaut Lisa Marie Nowak had driven over 900 miles while wearing a diaper to confront (and possibly attempt to kidnap and/or murder) a romantic rival (y'know--that thing they're not making a movie about), most people assumed that her behavior was unjustified. To those people I now declare: sexy emails!

It turns out that Nowak's rage may have been fueled by the discovery [Ed. note: not the space shuttle] of "steamy e-mails" sent to fellow astronaut Bill Oefelein--the object of her affections--by fellow Bill-Oefelein-sexer-upper Colleen Shipman--the object of her pepper spray. While Oefelein was aboard the Space Shuttle Discovery [Ed. note: not the act of uncovering sexy emails] in December, Shipman sent him an email which included the passage, "Will have to control myself when I see you. First urge will be to rip your clothes off, throw you on the ground and love the hell out of you."

After reading that, how could Nowak have been expected not to embark on a frantic cross-country drive with the possible intent of shooting Shipman, cutting her into pieces and putting those pieces into garbage bags? Now that this evidence has come to light, it's reasonable to assume that all charges against Nowak will be dropped, and the general public can focus its attention on the even more fascinating revelation brought to light by this story:

They have email in space!