Who really invented the Internet?

The blogger software that I use to write "Stuff You Think You Need" is perplexed.
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We are having some issues together, the two of us, Blogger software and I are bickering. It's a mutual thing, just like in any relationship. I don't understand women very well, and I am weak in terms of knowing technical stuff about computer software. Blogger isn't worried about my feelings and just does whatever the hell it wants, even if it hurts me. Blogger is like; to hell with you.

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As far as our relationship goes, I think of it like this: I am like a small child, playing with Guns. Except, I am like a gun playing savant. I am shooting quarters off the top of coffee cans from 100 yards with my back turned to the target using only a mirror to see the object I am gunning for. Blogger doesn't see me that way though, blogger only sees the part where I just admitted I am a small child. They don't want me playing with guns I guess, because really? Who lets a small child shoot a gun over his shoulder while using a mirror to eye the target? Plus I am not really a kid, and I may be drinking also.

So blogger probably just sees me as a drunk child, shooting targets over his shoulder. Plus you know what else? I am stressed out about lots of things in my life. I have failed in so many aspects of my life that I never wanted to fail at. I am Faily Mcfailster. I never wanted to grow up without my children in my life. And that is not a typo. I also wanted to watch the movie of them becoming grownups themselves, but instead of the flick, I get three week interval snapshots. This particular weekend is mine and I will also have to miss a wedding that I would have really liked to have gone to. So to Blogger, I am a stressed out, drunk child, doing trick shooting with mirrors and stuff, plus I am a father. and really, I don't know that I would be generous with my analytics if I knew the blogger to be some kind of a drunk, stressed out, child father, who is a gun shooting savant. So Blogger just messes with me when I try to tell it my needs regarding the analytics portion of the software.

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I was so proud of myself at first. I mean I didn't think I was going all deep logic, I knew I wasn't going inside and changing some of the zero's to ones and some of the ones to zeros, I wasn't like Al Gore, thinking I invented the Internet. But I did figure out the HTML code that I needed to cut, and then I figured out where I needed to paste it. Blogger was all like: "dude? are you proud that you were able to cut and paste something?" I was like: "Yes, Yes I am."

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Blogger gave me some feedback then in the analytics portion of the software and told me the following: "Analytics successfully installed, waiting for data." I was fired up! I slugged down a beer, shot a dime with my gun, using my left hand, over my shoulder, blindfolded at 90 yards and used my right hand to pat myself on the back. It was a good day.

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But it turns out blogger is like so many women in my life. She lied. If you go to the analytics page on my blog, it does indeed say analytics successfully installed, waiting for data. there is a clicky thing to click on from there, and it goes to another page that tells you that it can take 24 hours to upload data before you get your reports and stuff. Excellent, this was on Wednesday and I had a party to go to that night anyways.

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Funny thing, about this party and it ends up tying itself all back in, so just bare with me on this. I met some people at this party that Wednesday, three of them stand out, and all three of them stand out for different reasons.

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The first fellow I met was a black man who was wearing Liederhosen. This was a pretty yuppie type party with most people dressing pretty well, so it wasn't a bunch of drunk college kids with rock and roll t-shirts on or anything like that. A black man wearing liederhosen sticks out in this environment. Being worried that he might be more interesting then I am, I started talking with him. In addition to being a black man wearing liederhosen, He is a performance artist that believes in witchcraft, plus I think he may be a polygamist. I am not kidding. He told me he had four wives. I met two of them. I saw his witchcraft jewelry stuff and honestly he wasn't a Gator fan, so turns out by default he is not as interesting as me after all, But damn that was close. I don't think I have to tell you why this guy stands out.

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I did not make any of that stuff up about the guy, and the part where I was telling you he is a performing artist? that ties into the next person we met. As Liederhosen dude and I were talking, a beautiful polish woman walked up to us. I would like to think she was coming up to talk with me because of my dashing good looks, but in reality she had been to a show that liederhosen guy did. (he performs, and he does it naked and it gets weird I presume from how he had described it). She had seen his show, and to her, he was like a little mini celebrity.

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She was beautiful and kind of seductive and as quickly as possible, I punched in my timecard and went to work. I got vibes that I was doing ok. Women will send you signals and I think sometimes I am to busy looking for the; "buzz off creep" signals rather then the "I like you signals" but this time I was getting the good ones. mostly. I thought. but women will lie and thats another post. one I probably wont ever write about but its in my head. It would be a funny one.

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She would mix in a "buzz off" every once in awhile though. It was about four parts "I like you Bill signals" to 1 part "buzz off" At some point, during the few hours that we talked, I told her about my success with blogger analytics, only I did it in a way where I wasn't just telling her how I cut something and then, wait for it..., pasted it somewhere else. I told her about it in a way that she might now mistakenly believe that it was actually me that invented the Internet.

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Which leads us to the third person. The German. She had come to the party with a man. Neither she , nor he described himself as the boyfriend, but rather as just a friend. Later on I was able to figure out what was going on. It was true He was not her boyfriend, but only because SHE didn't want him to be. He never told me that, I just figured it out. He is also self employed as a computer consultant. His business card has his name, the name of his company and they are the same. It turns out this guy really DID invent the Internet. He knows this stuff and I am thinking about calling him to help me. Only he will not just help me figure out whatever it is that blogger is lying to me about, he could set up a whole new portal, and it would only cost a little bit of money. Its not what I want to do though I just want Blogger to work.

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For now, I am hesitant. I would love a cool ass site that doesn't lie to me about stuff. but on the other hand Blogger was my first and I do feel like if she really was faithful to me about the analytics I would be fine with that. the trouble is I need Blogger to understand that about herself and want to change her ways because at some point I am going to have analytics. That's a fact, and if I cant have analytics with blogger, then I will have it with some other software, Blogger thinks its all my problem and I just don't agree. I certainly wish I was better at understanding that stuff, but I am not.

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Anyways thats my story, and Blogger was like, "are you kidding me? are you going to write a post showing how stupid you are?" and I was like "yes, yes I am, and then tomorrow I am going to write a post about a very womanly thing that I did," and she was like: "Today a post about you being stupid, tomorrow about how gay * you are? what next? a post about buying a toaster oven?" I replied: "I think so blogger. I think thats exactly how its going to play out, unless something else happens, in the meantime, how about you quit lying to me about analytics and get those reports in. Maybe after that I will not post stupid shit about toasters, and womanly stuff."

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*Gay, Like when you cry at pretty woman and your buddies catch you, and they tell you how gay you are. Like that, not actually having sex with a man or something.