Mrs. Rita

I can’t stand websites that have auto run programs on their pages.

For example, let’s say you’re an accountant, and your boss just gave you a spreadsheet to “tidy up.” But you’ve heard it’s supposed to snow, so you click on the website of a local television station.

You don’t think to check the speaker volume because, well, you’re an accountant.

And there it is – a video of the weatherman at the bottom of the screen – screaming to heed his warning and stay off the roads.

You’re busted.

And now your boss gives you more work because the only spreadsheet he’s ever created was with a ruler and a blank piece of paper.

The internet has two industries to thank for many of the innovations we now take for granted. Gambling and porn sites were ahead of the curve when it comes to technology.

Five years ago, paying a bill from your computer was still a little scary. But you could place a 3-team parlay without any problems. You know, unless you count financial problems.

Nowadays, cell phone technology is all the rage.

Microsoft has some catching up to do when it comes to operating systems. Sure, Windows Mobile 6.1 is nice, but it doesn’t include Adobe Flash Player.

I mean, how is a user supposed to watch porn or horse racing from their cell phone if every video runs in Flash Player?

Windows Mobile 6.5 was just released, and it has the porn player already loaded. But who knows when phone manufacturers will offer an upgrade.

WTF am I talking about? Man I got way off track there.

A few weeks ago, I gave my name to a fast food establishment.

“Mr. Benny, your order is ready,” the lady yelled.

I’m looking around and thinking, “Wow, that’s weird – someone has the same last name as my first name.”

But I’ve started noticing this a lot lately – people saying “Mr.” and “Miss” before a first name.

“Y’all know where Miss Cathy stay at?”

I was always taught to use a courtesy title before the last name.

“Good morning, Miss Landers.”

Mr. Clean? – I guess I always assumed that was his last name.

Mr. Rogers Neighborhood? C’mon, everyone knows his first name was Fred.

The whole shithouse is going up in flames. And I blame everything on music.

So tell me Mrs. Rita, what’s it say in my tarot? Read my palm and tell me. Why do lovers come and go?