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An excerpt from SatireWire's book, ECONOMY OF ERRORS

Not That You Should Care, Mr. I-Have-My-Own-Site-Now

Miami, Fla. ( — I'm thinking of divorcing your father. Oh, you didn't know that, Mr. I-have-no-time-for-the-woman-who-bore-me-and-taught-me-HTML? Well, if you ever bothered to drop by your mother's web site, just once in a while, spare just a few of your precious surfing minutes, you'd know that. It was in my weblog from last week.

This picture is on my Web site, not that you would know

But far be it from me to complain, although would it hurt so much to visit the family web site — the site where you first learned how to code, I shouldn't have to mention? I've done some things around the place. Remember that animated .gif that your father used to love? The one with the stupid dancing fish? On the home page, he wanted it! He insisted! Well it's gone! I'm doing everything in Macromedia Flash now. Your father doesn't even know. G-d forbid he should make time to visit his own wife's site.

So I should be forgiving you? It's in your genes, that's what RabbiNet says.

Your sister Rachel, she visits your mother's site every week, and you know how hard it is for her to get around, what with that 56k dial-up connection she suffers with, and that schmendrick of a husband always hogging the computer. He surfs like a pig! But your sister Hannah — Judaism should have saints! She has a link to my site right on her home page, and she surfs in every day, after work. And she's got kids!

But you, you with your fancy DSL, you who won't put up a link to your own mother's site, you, who have by the way not brought me one grandchild — not that I'm utzing, G-d knows — you're too busy chasing every girlie site with so much as a sheyner ponim. But I have news for you, Mr. I-can't-be-bothered-to-visit-my-own-mother's-site-but-I-can-troll-for-strumpets-at-Temptation-Island-com. That goyishe site has no pictures of the sort you're after, not so much as a pupik showing.

And don't tell me you're spending all your time at That site's not doing so well, they can never get a quorum, no small thanks to you who never shows up for prayer, as G-d in himmel knows.

Are you cleaning your mouse? Remember to clean your mouse. And keep your fingers on the keyboard, where they belong. Oy, how I suffer.

You know, I haven't changed your page since you left. It's just like it was when we were still under one site, one happy family. Ouch, memories! But it's still there, if you want to come back and see it, even maybe make a few changes. Nice to have it lived in once in a while. Not that I'm asking you to move back in. I know you have your own URL now and your own "site", which I shouldn't say, so I won't, that it's a mess Mr. Garbage Mouth and my friend Mrs. Meierson, who must have seen it G-d knows how, says don't make yourself sick, that son of yours is just a nebbish, a nobody, look at the way he keeps that site of his with all the broken links and script errors.

This picture is on my Web site. Did I mention that?

So I'm not saying you should consider coming back, but you still have the password to the site, if you remember how to use it, I'm not holding my breath.

You remember, the girl you met on Such a lovely person. She still comes by my site. And so pretty! She sent me a .gif and I put it up. You should come see it. How long will it be until somebody else, some nice rich mentsh who makes a good living and has a nice clean web page, is visiting my site and sees Annabelle and sweeps her off her feet? Not that you should care. But her picture is there. And a link to her web site. And her email address, in case you've forgotten it. Not that you would think to care about such things as a dying mother's last wish for your happiness.

By the way, have I mentioned I'm dying? It was in my weblog from last week. Oh, that's right, you don't have time to come to your mother's site anymore. I'm leaving the site to your sisters.


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SatireWire is intended for use by those age 18 and older. All stories are fictional and satirical and should not in any way be construed as fact. Please read our disclaimer. All contents Copyright © 1999-2003, SatireWire, LLC. All rights reserved.

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