Oct. 22nd, 2000

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Observe your enemies, for they first find out your faults. -Antisthenes
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What if this weren't a hypothetical question?

hehehe

Oct. 22nd, 2000 03:52 am
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this has just been killing me so I had to post it

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Jesus Christ. Where should I start with this ignorant cow?

Actually, let's start with me. I am a brand-new, state-of-the-art Dell Dimension 4100, although, if all you had to go by was Vicki, you'd think my name was "Tweety Bird Sticker Receptacle." She's got me faggoted up like a 10-year-old girl's notebook.

Never mind that Dr. Glickman screwed up and bought this colossal ditz of a receptionist more computer than she could ever possibly need for record-keeping at a small dentist's office. (As if 40 unused gigs of hard drive are necessary to print Bobby Cloninger's mom a reminder that he's having that cavity filled on the 11th.) I'm powerful enough to monitor a cooling tower, but that's not even what I'm bitching about. I'd rather be owned by some acne-scarred teenage girl who only used me to write shitty poetry, so long as she actually read the manual that came with me. "Programmed in some anti-Vicki software." Holy shit, I want to kill her.

I feature a one-Gigahertz Pentium III processor and 128 megabytes of RAM. And this broad is whining that I'm not fast enough. A fucking Lamborghini isn't fast enough if you don't know how to shift, brainiac. And, believe it or not, you actually have to exit a program when you're done with it. Not just close the window. You actually have to select "Close" from the File menu. Or, better yet, Alt-F4 on your keyboard. I'm not gonna take the fall just because you left RealPlayer, AOL Instant Messager, Microsoft Word, ACT! 2000, WinAmp, McAfee First Aid, and the sound- and video-card software all open, and you're trying to open Excel! All that stuff costs RAM, dumbass. Maybe if you'd check the system tray once a month. The precise reason I'm "groaning and grinding so much" is that your stupid catalog of open programs is so taxing to my RAM that it forces me to open virtual memory, which is gonna be slow as hell no matter what computer you're on.

And, hey, Vicki, if you're having trouble with sticky keys, maybe you should think about not eating so goddamn many blueberry muffins while you're at your desk. (This Einstein seems to think the area beneath my keys is a gateway to an interdimensional netherworld where crumbs are magically whisked away, never to be seen again.)

Oh, and technical wizards who roamed the Earth generations ago came up with a magic fix-all for a printer that doesn't work: Turn the fucking thing on. That cable connecting me to the printer isn't a friggin' power cable. You actually need actual electricity to actually flow into the actual printer for it to actually work.

Now, as for system freezes: Maybe if you didn't install that gay-ass shareware inspirational-saying screensaver, you wouldn't have had so many software conflicts. But, with the damage already done there, you could at least hit Control-Alt-Delete and click "End Task" to close down a frozen program. That's Control and Alt and Delete, all at the same time! Isn't that fascinating?

Oh, before I forget: If I do freeze up, my reset button is located in the front. Press it and... voila! Do not unplug me and then plug me back in. Do you have any clue how much that fucking pisses me off? (Why did I even bother asking you that? Of course you don't. You're Vicki Helmholz, the world's dumbest dental-office receptionist.)

I don't even have time to go into this sad excuse for a computer user's misuse of the term "user-friendly." If there were a merciful God in Heaven, He would give me arms that I might strangle this bitchwad.


© The Onion
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This is a poem I wrote
I think I was about 15
it was intended then
as it is now
to be humorous and cheesy
just having fun with words
which is probably
why its one of the few
of my poems that I would
ever consider sharing

-----------------

Kiss Me,
Bite Me,
Suck My Life

I plead silently to her
as I lay there staring at my lonely reflection,
feeling her cold hands press my flesh
as one would a piece of meat before devouring it one piece at a time.

Addicted to her touch,
intoxicated by her smile,
begging her to suck my life,
her sustenance.
Incapable of movement,
held by her horrific beauty,
her dark endless eyes and deathly pale skin.

Long since having removed all protections from her fatal attractions,
my chains gone from silver to gold,
all signs of my religion so thoroughly washed from my home
as to make me wonder if they had been there at all.
the spice now gone from my palate
has returned in abundance
to the living of the last few days of my life.

Night after Night,
I watch my reflection fade as she sucks my life
and infuses me with the cheap variation she calls her own.

Until a mere shadow of my former self,
I leave the ranks of mortals
for an eternity of damnation,
trapped in my lifeless body.
Yearning for the hunt!

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