Tales From The Cripped
More notes from the bomb shelter (my wife’s desktop computer) where I’m hiding after the cratering of my laptop’s hard disk. Although, there are indications that this might not be the safest of refuges - it capriciously and spontaneously reboots itself for no particular reason. I’m glad I’m not using it as a porn repository - the fistus interruptus would be more than one could bear.
The club date last night was loads of fun. I danced so much I feel like I ran a marathon. And my jeans today smell like an ashtray. I’ve been trying to get this computer to recognize my camera so that I can post some pictures from last night, but there seem to be conflicting drivers and, in fact, they seem to both be from Canon - my Canon Multipass F80 printer seems to be jealous of its little Powershot S300 brother.
I’ve been tracking my new Dell laptop, and it arrived in Seattle at 5:30 this morning! It’s so frustrating, cuz it’s sitting in a warehouse just 5 miles from my house, but I have to wait until Monday for them to deliver it. Then I step back and look at myself and say, “Get the hell off the computer and get out of the house! You’re turning into a pasty-faced pus-bag.”
So, that’s what I’ll do. Saturday afternoon beckons.
