They're supposed to make your life better. Sweeter. More enjoyable. But then they turn on you and make you miserable.
By the way, I'm not talking about the kind you eat. I'm talking about the kind in your computer.
All you have to do is kill your first second third fourth oh for fuck's sake WHO'S COUNTING? laptop and resort to using another computer, and you'll discover that you can't remember any of your log-on IDs or passwords. They're all cookies.
So I have six or seven a few email accounts. Is that so wrong? So I use eBay and half.com and Amazon.com and twitter and flickr and MySpace and FaceBook and that other one ... Friendster? and Yahoo groups and Netflix and Moveable Type and Blogger
and holy shit, no wonder I can't remember any of my log-on IDs.
Anyway.
I was going to upload the single finest example of Plumber's Butt I have ever seen in real life. Yes, I was going to freely share it with the internet. And yet, I can't log on to my flickr account, and anyway, my usual Photoshoppy shit is on the laptop. The dead one.
Laptop? When you started to crash whenever I tried to watch a really big Youtube video on Firefox and I said you were dead to me? I didn't mean it.
So here I sit, with an all-but-useless Hewlett Packard electric hot water bottle--useful for pretty much nothing, except getting the bed nice and toasty.
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