The most harrowing moment of his life was the time he was nearly arrested at a California DMV office for insisting his home address really was “127.0.0.1.”
2013, Douglas Shoback, The Art of Self-Destruction (→ISBN):
She also wears a black t-shirt with the words "There's No Place Like 127.0.0.1" plastered across her chest. Her breasts stretch the words, the numbers becoming oversized and appearing to compliment her skirt. A tattoo of a red star marks the upper part of her left hand.
Same blue eyes, same dark hair, but the roundness of seventeen had given way to the angles, lines, and hardness of a man in his prime. Todd still looked like he belonged in a mechanic's shop, except for the decidedly geeky tshirt that read There's no place like 127.0.0.1 and clung to his chest in sinful ways. God, to run his hands down the length of that body.