On February 25, 2002, untold bags of Cheetos® in high altitude groceries burst from the sudden decrease in global air pressure brought about by the zillion simultaneous gasps of people realizing the Attorney General of the United States was demonstrably, incontrovertibly batshit fucking bananas.
Like everyone else, I experienced an intoxicating revulsion as i chiseled the play button like it dispensed food pellets. But it was just a fleeting rubberneck, not the entire transorbital.
Weeks with the Goog turned up squat. It simply wasn't. Eventually...I clenched my fists and my eyes and fell to my knees in rapt prayer. And lo, was I introduced to a friend of a friend's friend, who worked somewhere.
I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you gave me archive access. Gloria in excelsis Deo.