Forbidden Fruits

“I can stop using it any time I want.”

Let’s make a deal. You stop fussing, and I’ll let you hold The Precious. But only for a few seconds. We both know that, when put into the wrong hands, especially grubby saliva-covered baby hands, The Precious is capable of terrible things. Things like: accidentally overnighting an inflatable hot tub to our house, or sending cryptic messages to my boss, or secretly recording me, in my bathrobe, trying to choke down black coffee because we ran out of sweetener. Of course, you don’t care about all that. You just like The Precious because it is shiny and beautiful and makes little buzzing noises that have been training you like a pavlovian dog since you were an infant. You’ve also had plenty of time to observe me with The Precious. You’ve seen the way my eyes glow with the reflection of The Precious’ artificial luminance. You’ve seen me lovingly pet The Precious by swiping my finger up and down, left and right, over its smooth, flat belly. You see, I’m a lost cause. Once upon a time, I was taking a stroll through an Enchanted Big Box Store, when a horrible little Sales Nymph used a Discount Hex to force me to fall in love with the first thing I saw: The Precious. Ever since then, I’ve been powerless to resist The Precious’ call to waste hours reading internet comments written by sociopaths and playing Free-to-Play games that would make Sisyphus want to get back to rolling his ball. Where once sat a boy with ambition and purpose, now slumps a man crippled by instant and artificial gratification. But there is still hope for you, my darling child. That is why you must never stare into the crystal abyss of The Precious’ Great Eye for more than a few seconds. Ooo, it buzzed! Give us back The Precious! Give it back to us neeeeeooooooow!

 

CatTop

“Writing partners.”

Well, this is a first. I’ve had cats in my lap. I’ve had laptops in my lap. But never both at the same time. Either Cat has been reading my blog and wants to get a behind-the-scenes look at how the sausage is made, or I mistook a bag of catnip for oregano and used it in my omelet this morning. Whatever the reason, I’m actually finding that writing on a CatTop is a breeze. Not only does it encourage proper typing posture – as any unauthorized movements will result in swift pinkie removal – but it also keeps you warm. Technically speaking, one CatTop possesses the warming ability equivalent to two goose down comforters. If you are ever suffering from hypothermia, simply bring a cat to a Best Buy and head to the computing department. Of course, why you are suffering from hypothermia in a region with ready access to cats and Best Buys is anyone’s guess. Perhaps you have fallen into a fountain at an outdoor mall. It’s difficult to say, as your teeth won’t stop chattering. Heck, you don’t need a Best Buy, you can just borrow mine! Trust me, after just a few minutes of holding my CatTop you will feel like a panther sunbathing in the Everglades. Here, let me just try to move it. One moment. Hmm. CatTop doesn’t seem to want to budge. Perhaps you should head to the nearest hospital, instead? You’re turning blue.

 

Warranties and Peace

Expired warranty.

Nothing works. Wife’s phone is busted, the TV reception is fuzz, my laptop is on the fritz, and we’re almost out of toothpaste! OK, that last one had nothing to do with electronics, but it’s still annoying. Now I have to make a trip to the store just for toothpaste. That’s like flying to Paris for a glass of wine! Actually, that’s a terrible simile, but give me a break, I’m upset. Why am I upset? Because every expensive gadget I have ever purchased seems to have the same half-life as processed uranium. “But Will, the more intricate technology becomes, the more variables there are to contribute to an operational failure,” says the nerd that lives in my brain. “SHUT UP, nerd! You just bought yourself another atomic wedgie!” The worst part is that manufacturers openly acknowledge this insanely frustrating paradox by offering limited, one year warranties. Why are we putting up with this? I bet if this were the 1800’s, and HP, the leading manufacturer of affordable lap-horses, announced they were not to be held responsible if their products went on crazed rampages after one year of regular use, the people would revolt! Back then, most of your products outlived you, especially lap-horses, because their tiny hearts last longer. If you think I’m being dramatic, consider this: a few weeks ago, Wife was digging through some old boxes when she found the Founding Father of modern electronics, GameBoy. Did it still work? You bet your lap-horse it did! Sure, the screen was so dim we had to hold it under a reading lamp to play Super Mario Land, but I guess that’s half the fun! As for my laptop? I’m trading it in for a lap-horse.