The white-paint plastic saints say it all

[firstcrusader]

I hate my computer. I mean, really, really hate it. I got a ton of stuff done on a document while at MSU on Tuesday, saved the file, and sent it to myself here at home. And what does my computer decide to do? It sez, hmm, I don't like Lisa, she tries to use me for things that I don't like (such as that icky "work" thing), so I will screw her over and not recognize much of the formatting on this document. Won't that be pleasant?

My computer's name is Lovecraft. It produces horrors no mind could possibly fathom.