As you may recall, my computer died several months ago. Even now, even after all the time that has passed, it still hurts to think about the too bright days of yesteryear.

Yes, the condolences were nice. The friendly pats on the back, and the people who would come up to me and share their own stories. Still, the bitter taste of my once fond memories was in my mouth.

Could anyone really know what it was like? That computer was MINE. I knew it, by virtue of being a touch typist, better than I knew the backs of my own hands. Could they know how sweet it had been to cuddle with it at night, and look at pornography on the internet? Those wild nights, when multiple tabs were full of multiple big-breasted whores.

Food lost it’s flavor, songs could no longer raise the spirits in me, and all my other emotional connections felt cheap. I would stare at the sun, eyes wild with fury, and demand to know how it could shine in a world in which my lap top no longer worked.

But passion has a way of fading and turning us all into hypocrites. I spent several pornless months in that data brothel known as the public library. Then broke, with no other prospects, I fell into the embrace of the first slutty Wal-Mart pre-built that would have me.

I tried to pretend I didn’t mind that it didn’t have internal speakers, wireless antenna, or a microphone. It was still a computer. Surely, it was better than being unplugged? Surely being able to look at some porn, even if having to do so only while being extremely cautious, was better than nothing?

So I bought a microphone for the computer. And then I took my computer in front of the mirror, and ran my hands sensually up and down the microphone saying “Oh yeah, you and me baby. We’re going to make so much fucking audio. We’re going to record until your entire hard-drive is fucking spent.”

Then I bought a drawing tablet and plugged it in, hard and fast so I wouldn’t think about how shitty my computer’s processor was. And then I drew some shit on my tiny ass monitor. I was like “Save that jpeg you fucking whore! Save it to the C drive! Fuck yes I will choose my own file name!”

I found myself accessorizing my tower as much as I could, just to forget the time I had spent with my adventurous lap top, that would go anywhere and do anything.

Finally, disgusted with myself and looking to hit rock bottom, I took my enormous bonus check* and bought a flat-screen tv on clearance and a wireless keyboard. I sit here now, pounding on my wireless keyboard with wild, animal abandon, staring at my obscenely giant monitor with eyes that seem only to want to stare into the past… and you know what?

Maybe by using my skanky new computer I’m not dishonoring the memory of my old computer. Maybe my love for a lady doesn’t mean I can’t love a skank as well. Maybe there are new kinds of fun besides being able to have a trillion applications running at once. Maybe I can learn to enjoy computing in one location. Maybe… just maybe I’ll learn to laugh again.

For a skank… my new computer is pretty fucking hot. If you’ll excuse me, I need to find stuff to shove into all the USB ports on the back at the same time.

*Enormous by my white trash standards.

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