this little fucker is gonna be my best friend
And I’m back. I was parked on the side of the road, cigarette hanging from my mouth, smoke uncomfortably seeping into my eyeballs, when a random colore man in a Chicago Bears baseball cap walked by with an Acer mini netbook under his arm. I’d been seeing a ton of these as of late, and not knowing anything about them besides the fact that I wanted one too, I asked the man how much those things run for. He said, “I’m not sure, but this one right here, I’ll give it to you for 200 bones.” I laughed at his comedic timing and to my surprise, it was not meant to be comedic at all. He was serious and even introduced himself, Sam, and gave me an introduction to what the computer can do. Windows 7, 160 gig hard drive, a gig of RAM, I didn’t know what he was talking about but it looked and sounded satisfactory. I reached into my pockets and gave him two hundred dollars. He gave me the netbook with a charger and now I’m typing into it, typing to you. Fucking A.
My last few posts, though plentiful, have all been written on my phone. A tiny little gay android that is so advanced, it even does things I don’t want it to do. As long as it lets me write, right? Write, right? Get it? Fuck it. So finally, I no longer have to write my blogs with my thumbs and I can pick what internet addresses I want to see. And more importantly, I can continue writing my book. From scratch because the hard drive it was saved on, decided it was time to explode in a pathetic cloud of smoke.
My brain, my fingers, my eyes, my words… The boys are back in town.