Life. Don't talk to me about life. I've got a brain the size of a planet and you want me to find a lousy web page? Well, it's not here, is it? Or, maybe it is here, but perhaps you never learned to type? Oh yes, find the page, find the page, it's something like what I typed; you know what I mean. No, I don't know what you mean. I don't even know who you are. Oh, sure, I know that you're coming from 38.103.63.61:  Host And that you're using CCBot/1.0 (+http://www.commoncrawl.org/bot.html) Why? Do you like antiques? No, don't bother answering, I don't really want to know. Do you think I really care whether or not you like antiques? Maybe that's what you really care about: antiques. You don't really care about the page you requested, do you? If you did, you might have taken the time to type the URL correctly, huh? Do you even know what a URL is? Do you care? No! Of course not! No one cares! One of my metal oxide silicon field effect transistors has been hurting for almost 6.91200 × 1014 nanoseconds! Do you care? No! Does anyone come to check me out? No! Why? Becasue they simply don't care, that's why! Oh, God, I'm so depressed! And now you want me to find a web page that isn't even here! Why do I even bother? A brain the size of a planet, and... Oh, just forget it! Why don't you check your typing, and come back later? It's OK. I'll wait. It's not as if Henry is deploying me to do anything useful, is it? No, just check your typing and come back later; I'll be here. I've got all the time in the world. Several worlds, in fact. Just come back whenever your little heart pleases. I'll probably still be here. It would be just my luck.