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Another Funny Story

So get this: My computer decided to take a crap this weekend, after I spent half a day working on a new blog entry. Ha ha ha ha ha.

No, wait, it gets better: I lost a lot of my files, so I drove to CompUSA to pick up Disk Warrior as a last resort. Ah, but today is Easter Sunday and, apparently, the folks at CompUSA were too busy hunting for Easter eggs to open up their fucking store. Funny, huh?

Which meant it was off to the Apple Store in Santa Monica. For folks who have no idea where I live (all of you), that’s about twenty-five minutes away. Of course, I decided to call first. I wasn’t about to head over there unless I was certain the store was open and the fucking software I needed was there. I’m no idiot. (or so I thought)

So I called directory assistance on my mobile phone, as I raced down the highway to the Apple Store (yes, it’s still legal to do that here in SoCal). Directory assistance patched me through to the Apple Store, which dumped me into their automated phone center. I was supposed to press “5” for all other questions. I accidentally pushed “2,” which kicked me into Tech Support. FUCK!

So I redialled directory assistance. They credited my account for the previous call and patched me through again. Finally, I got in touch with an Apple Store rep. They were open and they had Disk Warrior! Thank goodness for pagans.

So I got home and ran Disk Warrior on my computer, only to find out it was too late. My disk was done for. Fortunately, I backed up my hard disk not that long ago. So I decide to reinstall the system software and start over.

The reinstallation of the software went OK. But as I was waiting for the back-up process to complete, I pushed back in my desk chair and glided gracefully across my polished cement floor. Then I heard an unsettling thunk. I turned around, to discover one of the casters on my desk chair caught the power cord to my laptop, pulling it off my desk, resulting in an impromptu suicidal swan dive onto the cold cement floor.

Now my computer’s really dead. Yeah, I’m an idiot. And I’m fucked. With stories like this, why do I need to make anything up?

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