Puter Jokes

Ann Landers wouldn't print this. I have nowhere else to turn. I have to get the word out. Warn other parents. I must be rambling on. Let me try and explain.

It's about my son, Billy. He's always been a good, normal ten-year-old boy. Well, last spring we sat down after dinner to select a summer camp for Billy. We sorted through the camp brochures. There were the usual camps with swimming, canoeing, games, singing by the campfire -- you know. There were sports camps and specialty camps for weight reduction, music, military camps and camps that specialized in Tibetan knot tying.

I tried to talk him into Camp Winnepoopoo. It's where he went last year. (He made an adorable picture out of painted pinto beans and macaroni). Billy would have none of it. He pulled a brochure out of his pocket. It was for a COMPUTER CAMP! We should have put our foot down right there, if only we had known.

He left three weeks ago. I don't know what's happened. He's changed. I can't explain it. See for yourself. These are some of my little Billy's letters.

Dear Mom,
The kids are dorky nerds. The food stinks. The computers are the only good part. We're learning how to program. Late at night is the best time to program, so they let us stay up.
Love, Billy.

Dear Mom,
Camp is O.K. Last night we had pizza in the middle of the night. We all get to choose what we want to drink. I drink Classic Coke. By the way, can you make Szechuan food? I'm getting used to it now. Gotta go, it's time for the flowchart class.
Love, Billy.

P.S. This is written on a wordprocessor. Pretty swell, huh? It's spell checked too.

Dear Mom,
Don't worry. We do regular camp stuff. We told ghost stories by the glow of the green computer screens. It was real neat. I don't have much of a tan 'cause we don't go outside very often. You can't see the computer screen in the sunlight anyway. That wimp camp I went to last year fed us weird food too. Lay off, Mom. I'm okay, really.
Love, Billy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Top ways to know if you are addicted to the internet.

You find yourself typing "com" after every period when using a word processor.com
You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just pulled the plug on a loved one.
You start introducing yourself as "Jon at I-I Net dot com"
Your wife drapes a blond wig over your monitor to remind you of what she looks like.
All of your friends have an @ in their names.
You can't call your mother...she doesn't have a modem.
Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box.
You laugh at people with 2400 baud modems.
You move into a new house and decide to Netscape before you landscape.
You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading.
You tell the cab driver you live at http://123.elm.street/house/bluetrim.html
Your spouse makes a new rule: "The computer cannot come to bed."
You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front of your computer with a commode.
You start tilting your head sideways to smile. :^)
You turn on your computer, and turn off your spouse.
Your best friend is someone you've never met.
Your spouse says communication is important in a marriage...so you buy another computer, and install a second phone line so the two of you can chat.
You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is allowed to call 200 hours per month "unlimited."
Your dog has its own home page.
So does your goldfish. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

updated 04/09/06