Wednesday, August 23, 2006


Jeremy’s computer died.

Gone. Kaput. Toast.

I was at a very good part of my book when he told me the news so I believe I grunted in acknowledgement and continued reading. It wasn’t until later that evening that the gravity of the situation hit me. I went to go check my email and instead of seeing my moniter I saw the back of a large head. Jeremy. Quickly calculating how his lack of computer affected me, I leapt into action, quickly clicking the on switch. Nothing. I don’t have a problem sharing but I do have a problem with patience so I proceeded to throw a
tantrum of mass destruction demanding that Jeremy get off my computer because it was “MINE’ and he didn’t like PCs anyway. This led to wrestling and ‘tunnel Clara’ (a variation of tunnel puppy, where Jeremy would put the family dog under a blanket and box it in with his arms until it wriggled it’s way to freedom.). Suffice to say I was NOT amused.

By all that is holy I need to get this boy his own computer or one of us will end of dead. If it's me, by asphyxiation, then you know that 'tunnel Clara' went horribly, horribly wrong.

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