Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Don't Touch My PC! Take my money but don't touch my lover.
BUZZ KILL -- Don't Blow My High!
The Loud Pen http://www.theloudestpenever.com/ said she was tired of ranting and complaining about her station in life. That's a good thang. She said her dreams and wishes of a life like Beyonce' has to be put on hold. I like that. Her obsession with fame and fortune was causing her to lose sleep and made her constipated. That's not good, that's ugly.
But see, I'm not trying to be her Metamucil. I'm just sitting in for her. She needs a slight break. I am her guest blogger. My name is CareyCarey.
I used to smoke marijuana and drink plenty of yak. Oh yeah, I'd put on Miles Davis and kiss the world goodbye... "Kiss my ass you cold world, I don't need you"... I didn't need a lot of people back then. No sir buddy, they might have ask for some of my smoke and jacked with my high.
It's much like my love for my PC. You've heard it before, Aretha said it: "Company is alright with me, every once in a while. But when me and my baby start makin' love"... get the hell away from me - okay!
See, I don't complain about many things in life, I really don't. I've been somewhere that I am not trying to go back to, so I've learned how to just cool out. But there are some things that really get on my last nerve. Really - don't mess with my high - don't kill my buzz. In other words - don't jack with my goddamn computer.
Really, I'd rather be locked in a room for 4 days with The Long Pen, Paris Hilton, one of those Scanks In The City and any one of those Housewives from Atlanta, than to have someone jack with my PC. And I can't stand any one of those TV tramps. Well, The Long Pen is my girl and I haven't seen her on TV... yet.
I kid you not, I draw the line on that sh*t. Yes, my nose is open. Yes, I've been sprung. Yes-Yes-Yes, I have a Jones for my new lover -- my PC.
No-No-No, a thousand times NO! I'd rather die than to let someone surf my web.
I didn't come by this decision without a little drama. Well, one time my computer crashed, so I had to take it to the shop. When I went to recover it, the technician gave me the funky side-eye. I wanted to ask him WTH was he looking at. But instead I politely asked him what was on his mind. He told me he was required by law to report any unusual "activity" on any hard drives that he repairs. Okay, I wondered what this had to do with me. Before I had time to ask him any more questions, he pulled out a picture of somebodies naked ass. Yeah, and in another picture somebody was groping a pair of naked balls. Now, mind you, this was my computer but I didn't buy it new. Plus, I have been known to leave my computer unattended while a few of my friends were around. Since perverts and nasty Mfers come in all shapes and sizes, it's possible one of them pricks could have satisfied their voyeurism on my PC.
Look, I couldn't ask all my friends which one of them could have possibly made a mistake and ventured off the beaten path. How do you do some sh*t like that? Anyway, I decided to set a trap. Oh yeah, I knew a snake would remain a snake. But, back in my mind, I had a few reservations about this trap thang. What if it was my lady? Damn, that's messed up *lol*. But, what if it was my mother? Damn, that's really messed up. What if it was the woman I've been creeping with? Come on now, that's a joke. I was just checking to see if you were still with me.
Okay, here was the plan. There's this invisible ink, that police departments use to catch a thief. It's on the line of that die they put in bank robbery money bags. Once that mess gets on your hands, it's damn near impossible to get off. It's activated by moisture. Well, I couldn't decide if I should put it on a certain number of keys or just on the mouse. My lady and I have a deal. I don't mess with "her" stuff and she doesn't mess with mine. She will even bring me my pants if I ask her to get something out of my billfold. Isn't that what all women do? I mean, don't all women know not to go in a man's wallet?
Anyway, she does clean around my PC, so I didn't want a false positive, therefore I abandoned the mouse idea. I started to go back and ask the side-eye "Dick Tracy" technician if there was an address to the "suspicious" sites. You know, so I could concentrate on a few key letters. But I thought better of that. I didn't want to end up on the 10 o'clock news.
Finally I had set my trap. I was like a child on Christmas Eve. I was giddy with excitement. Anticipating the look on the culprits face, I almost pissed on myself. I was crackin' up. But see, sometimes the best laid plans have a few problems.
I stopped by my corner grocery store to buy me a pack of gum. Oh yeah, gotta keep that breath fresh. While I was paying for my purchase, the clerk asked me if I was getting ready for a football game. I was surprised at the question so I asked him "why". Come to find out, I had markings under my eyes that football players use to block the glare of the sun. Damn it, I had stepped in my own doo-doo. I had forgot I had set my trap and got captured by my own game. Damn, what a clown?!
Nevertheless, I love my PC and I love to blog. So may position remains the same. Don't fondle my love. Don't kill my buzz - don't kill my high. Don't mess with my computer! I've found love on a one way street. You can't touch this :-)