I was getting about 10 minutes of connectionz max and then an hour of fucking about trying to get my modem to acknowledge the existence of the outside world!
So, finally, I managed to get a devotee of teh goddess Isp to divine my connectivity. He arrived, dressed in the ceremonial overalls, and proceeded to apply his scrying tool to my Cist-eM (as computers are known to such mega-beings). He decided that there was a problem with my connection - something I had, heretofore, not even suspected!
Fist of all, he braved the depths of my cellars and ascertained (through entrail divination, I must assume) that the sacrificial boxes in the house were receiving the correct amount of tribute. After this, he transmogrified my infernal modem to another of the same bestial aspect and, after many huffs and not a few puffs, ascertained that the interruption to the Kirlian flow existed in a plane external to my demesne... He then departed.
After 120 Earth minutes had elapsed (and Rolex knows how many on the ethereal plane that such persons call home) he returned bearing tidings of great bandwidth - there was much wooting!
There then followed a further 30 minutes of what can only be described as (essential?) fiddling before he declared my band officially rebroadened and my access to teh interwebz better than EVAH!!1!!
So, who the fuck are all you people? Do I know you?
