‘Puter above statement is not a joke. He does not own a cell phone. Wrap your heads around that one, dear readers.
‘Puter still manages to function in the world just fine. In fact, ‘Puter functions better than: (1) every moron who texts and drives; (2) every teenager who bumps into him while texting the person standing right next to her; (3) every person who loudly recounts her sexual escapades of the night before while on public transportation; (4) etc., ad infinitum.
‘Puter’s beef is not with technology per se (although GorT and Volgi would surely disagree), but rather with the Borg quality of it all. The instant connectivity afforded by the now ubiquitous cell phones has coarsened many of us and diminished society. Teenagers and young adults (heck, even many folks ‘Puter’s age) are no longer able to effectively intereact in person; they require the crutch of facelessness and anonymity. The instantaneousness of connectivity enables us to make horrible decisions (see, e.g., sexting, sex tapes, etc.) without adequate time for reflection.
‘Puter’s sure that sooner or later he’ll succumb and purchase a cell phone. He’ll have to. In his lifetime ‘Puter anticipates that everything from banking to medical interventions will be conducted over a PDA. But he won’t like it. Not one bit.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.