How to Screw Up your Computer in 48 Minutes or Less
I am not typing on my wonderful MacBook Pro right now. Why? Because I have totally trashed it. Unintentionally, of course, because I love my MacBook. I mean, I really love my MacBook. - tears flowing, mouth turned down, sobbing, banging on table. "How could I be so - so - so - dang confident that I knew what I was doing?!!!!! Waaaaaa!!!!!
And so I write this letter to my MacBook Pro, which may never sit on my lap again, and I type this letter on her sister - the Mac Desktop - sob sob
My wonderful MacBook. You've been such a good friend to me. All I wanted to do was clean out all those dang gray hairs that I'm shedding that were stuck under your keys, and the raisin toast crumbs that were crunching every time I typed on your dependable keyboard.
I even laid out the typepad keys in neat order so that I wouldn't forget where they went. I was trying to be so very careful with you....
Oh, the crap lying beneath your keys - I'm so sorry I'm shedding. It's hormones you know, and of course, my love of raisin toast in the morning, and the evening, and the mid-night snack with you sitting warmly in my lap making my thighs sweat. I just couldn't bear to hear the crunch of toast crumbs anymore.
And so I prepared you for delicate surgery.
And I even blew off all the crumbs before I performed hair and dust-bunny-removal surgery.
So, with hands shaking, (note the blurry picture), I removed your delicate keys, careful not to screw up anything underneath.
And with magnifying glass in my right hand, and some clippers (couldn't find the tweezers) in my left hand, I carefully removed my gray hair and numerous dust particles and raisin toast crumbs from your exposed keypad.
And then, after almost 48 minutes of delicate surgery, I pieced you back together again. But not before Big Bear saturated you with some solution for computers nearly giving me a heart attack.
And I blew your exposed keypad with that spray stuff that freezes your hand off.
And I prayed that my MacBook would be good as new with no more crunchy things and gray hairs looming beneath its keys.
But...
but....
I screwed you up. You've gone to Apple heaven I suppose, because although you come on, you don't type for me anymore.
Waaaaaaaa!!!! sob sob sniffle sniffle Waaaaaaaaa!!!! sniff sniff blubber blubber banging my head on the table un un snif sniffle waaaaa, un un, snif blubber blowing nose, mouth turned under, grief stricken
So, I guess I have to take you to the Genius bar after all, because although Mensa calls me a genius, I see that I am not, after all, a techno genius, and I am .... am ....
SO DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF!!!!!
And besides, it was Albert Einstein who once said that "intellectuals solve problems, but geniuses prevent them" which simply means that if I had been a genius, after all, I would have prevented this debacle by putting that blue rubbery keyboard thingy over my keypad to prevent this need for MacBook surgery. I should hope that Mensa doesn't get wind of this or they'll kick me out on my hiney as a farce - or is that a fart? Yep, I am an old fart. huh?
Crap, these dang computers.
