A couple of years ago, Thanksgiving of 2002, I had this shitty experience at Thanksgiving dinner that forever maimed my very soul.
But let me pop a cold one first. I get all bitchy just recalling it.
My folks are not the brightest stars on this side of the galaxy. I told them once that I do domains. My mom looked at me as if I did drugs. My dad continued to smoke his pipe and read the newspaper.
So at Thanksgiving it’s when all the Dickberry family gathers. We eat like pigs, grandma Elinor bakes a killer lemon pie and we all scratch our crotches after meal watching stupid shows on tv.
But that day, a domain I really wanted was being auctioned off at Pool.com so I had to keep an eye on the auction. I was going to pull a fast one in the last few seconds.
Then my cousins, twin retards I swear, came in my bedroom and wanted to surf the Internet. I had to tell them that I was busy.
So uncle Harry walks in and starts talking shit about domains and that I’m a sore loser for doing such a thing right on Thanksgiving day.
His retard twin kids are raising Cain with their screams and my mom walks in and talks about her blood pressure and that she’ll die watching me go down the society’s toilet.
I was going to be nice and just absorb the bullshit, what with being Thanksgiving and all, when I noticed there were 25 seconds left to bid on the domain auction.
Then my dad walks in and trips on the telephone wire. Yeah. Did I mention we had no cable back then, it was dial-up?
So I’m trying to fast redial but there was no time. I got back on AOL seven seconds after the auction had ended.
Losing that domain name ended up costing me $25,000 – that’s how much it got sold the following week at a domain forum. I could not believe my luck.
Since then, I don’t do Thanksgiving with my family, if there is a domain auction going on.
Editor’s note: These are the Diaries of Daryl the Drunk Domainer, who passed away early this year. DomainGang acquired them and will be publishing them unedited.
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