Quick post in the evening, good evening.
quickly raise a moral and ethical (which is not always obvious, remember), that bothers a lot of chicks who just have a sense of morality and ethics as light as their white thighs : technological espionage of our lovers. I mean pushed, not that I think speaks of an obsession for her Facebook profile. Mater 50 times a day on facebook profile of someone, like comments and track the comings and goings of friends more or less close, it's frankly something last year. And yet. No, when I say "spy technology", I mean to quell the mail altogether. Whether it
be known: it is wrong. It is a violation of the privacy of someone's trust, and more risk of falling on incorrect spellings unsuspected, or the presence of another girl in the virtual landscape that seemed yet to first sight - shallow, non inbox - desert.
I, for example, I can not bear to do it myself. Yet I have nothing to hide. I swear. Or if not, I delete. There is absolutely no question of repeating bad habits and cultural Catholic self-flagellation with emails compromising in its own box. Gotta be a little idiot.
Well, then here, yesterday I mate in the box Facebook my guy, but frankly without the weasel, frankly hyper-fast fact, just like that, to see, like a health check "is good, there's that message from me, spam, or guys "BIM and there, I came across a cancer. If we continue the metaphor. Less poetically, and yet the message was much more poetic than my espionage-rape, I came across a girl who has very specific place in my heart because it's a girl previously penetrated by darling who carnally sends a message nostalgic like "Do you remember the time when you penetrated me? The leaves are collected with the shovel, and come we pick up this summer, it could do so again. xoxo, love. "
Neither one nor two, I made the live face. Warm. How to explain? Impossible. I had committed the worst that prohibits sodomy, which became commonplace . I had to shut my mouth. And yet it is completely hypocritical, and I'll tell you why after the story told by Rabbi M. who has not unraveled my case, certainly, but of a sudden I I felt ... Divine:
A rabbi decides to play a game of golf the holy day of Sabbath, a Saturday. Quiet, it's nice, he plays golf, and now God, who sees all, hallucinates and is "hin hin old boy, you do not Sabbath? Well so much for your mouth." And God worked a miracle: it made a sudden return to a single golf ball in the rabbi's 18-hole field. Rabbi hallucinates in turn: it's a miracle! "Yeah, it is GOD, but you can tell it to anyone."
I felt like short, a little more miserable, or less, it depends on the rabbi's repentance possible, in short, I eat my tongue because I knew I had nothing to say. This mail does not concern me. And yet ... Talking about the hypocrisy of the thing.
In another conversation, a common voice, friends have confirmed the impossible not to disclose its code to its half Iphone: it immediately suspect the intentions of his soul mate, and would not trust. Only solution: give the code. But why the hell is he? Just for thieves? I say it's sad.
Otherwise, I do not believe that mater an email on the Mac in the house they share in common is that pervert also to the pockets of checker or bank accounts. False. Mater mails or sms Iphone, has nothing to do with acts of weasels that search, because precisely, is action: we must search, get up, look, think ... Brief. The big flaw in ethics. While all which is related to Apple, it's not as ugly. Oh no, the computer is our friend. We spend most of our time is like a transplant developed ourselves: it feels less filthy housewife who makes the pockets.
Even when you are browsing history. Yes ma'am. (But we all know that browsing history is a thousand times more dangerous than all, why find out that her man has a passion for animal porn? History, is NEVER.) Finally, we are simply victims technology: it's so much to facilitate our access to information that eventually reach all kinds of information simply by one click or with the iPhone, a mini finger pressure.
Hyper dangerous.
So Apple's fault: the proof is that my guy has a Blackberry, I mate and his ever sms: I too galley, I do not understand. Unable to checker when he is in the shower, I would require at least a good bath, I sorely lacking gold and practice, and bathtub.
My act of surfing in a foreign mailbox is morally reprehensible, certainly ethically but in his time so I was a young modern girl.
NB. Regarding the hags that make the pockets, he adds this: "But when we made a machine, we must empty their pockets to ensure with certainty that they contain nothing that might damage the machine!" Sure. It's less petty, all at once.
PS. If the post title is "How I'm not the rabbi," is so ignorant of the rules known as the Sabbath of living together harmoniously, I finally spill the beans. That did not help, nothing advanced, nothing relieved. Brief.
I know if I have to change guy, or bad habit. Gd, bring us a few more miracles, I swear to tell anyone.
PS2. Exclusive: this post dating back to Monday night I have the honor to believe that God hears me directly: my boyfriend left me yesterday. Bingo? Not really. But in any case, should read through "ex" instead of "dude". Sadness.
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