Technology Hates Me
No, really. I swear it's got some agenda against me. My DVD/VCR player literally sticks it's tongue out at me every time I turn it on. Not to mention that my laptop's CD drive hasn't worked for four years. Or the printer that has almost full ink cartridges and yet when I get the nerve to ask it to print something, it spits out a page that's as blank as my expression whenever technology just decides to spite me.
Actually, this isn't what I was originally planning on writing about. I was actually going to be deep, emotional, baring my soul for the world to see. I've actually had somewhat of an epiphany. And yet this profound epiphany was marred by the indecency of the LiveJournal homepage.
It has the unmitigated gall to show me that I have "73 messages", a sight I'm used to seeing considering my e-mail would probably be categorized as obese with spam. Then this offending website proceeds to show me a completely blank page when I click on those taunting words. Not only has it brought up the unrelenting frustration with this love-hate relationship technology and I have, but now it's just got me goddamn curious. 73 messages? Is it possible that people actually read this meager attempt at writing? Or maybe it's just spam telling me that my nonexistant dick is too small and needs their product.
Either way, telling you lovely people that may or may not exist is quite cathartic.
Actually, this isn't what I was originally planning on writing about. I was actually going to be deep, emotional, baring my soul for the world to see. I've actually had somewhat of an epiphany. And yet this profound epiphany was marred by the indecency of the LiveJournal homepage.
It has the unmitigated gall to show me that I have "73 messages", a sight I'm used to seeing considering my e-mail would probably be categorized as obese with spam. Then this offending website proceeds to show me a completely blank page when I click on those taunting words. Not only has it brought up the unrelenting frustration with this love-hate relationship technology and I have, but now it's just got me goddamn curious. 73 messages? Is it possible that people actually read this meager attempt at writing? Or maybe it's just spam telling me that my nonexistant dick is too small and needs their product.
Either way, telling you lovely people that may or may not exist is quite cathartic.