Friday, February 19, 2010
It Is Entirely Your Fault We Sound Like A Funeral Dirge For An 80's Synthpop Band
I entered the room in a state bordering mania. Jen was sitting in the computer chair reading some nerdy science voodoo, but it was nowhere near as important as my current mission. "Jen, get off the computer, I need to post."
She sighed and slowly spun her chair around to face me, eyebrows a-furrow. "You have your own computer, kindly go use it."
I placed my hand on her face as I pushed her and her wheely chair away from the keyboard. "Yeah, no, I got like, 600 viruses crawling around on that thing. I used to be cool with the little guys, 'cause they'd show me banners of free porn, but then they got wise to me and they've started giving me advertising for hemorrhoid cream, accompanied by graphic application pictures."
"Tough," she barked as she kicked me in the back of my knee, causing my legs to give way. She then proceeded to roll over my shirt and pin me to the floor. "I'm reading something, and I'll not have you infecting my computer, too."
"Jen, this is serious. It's about our blog."
"Oh, god. You haven't made it so that everyone who visits gets infected, too, have you?"
"No, that's not it. I don't think." I managed to shimmy loose of the chair wheel and sit in Jen's lap as I furiously typed in a URL. After several misspellings and an "accidental" visit to pornandmalware.com, I managed to go to the site I was aiming for. "Feast your eyes on this!"
"A piano?" she queried, "What's that got to do with our blog?"
"Look what happens when I type our URL into it." After Jen reminded me what our blog's URL was, I set the magic into motion. The keys of the digital piano began to illuminate in a whimsical dance of music and light, which sounded like two raptors fighting to the death.
"I don't get it."
"That's what our blog sounds like. That is the soundtrack of our escapades, and it sounds like a Wookie caught in a street sweeper. I am blaming this entirely on you and your boring science posts, and nothing you say to argue against my point will be considered valid."
She pushed me out of her lap and scooted her chair closer to the screen. I believe she was trying to stare down the piano until it played better music, but sadly, she did not succeed. "The content doesn't have anything to do with it," she said at last.
"What? How do you know that?"
"Did you not see me reading the information about it just now?" Sure, Jen. Try and dress up your failure, but Alex always knows. "Well, it does have something to do with it, but not necessarily what's been said. Just what letters have been used, which is plugged into an elaborate algorithm and then probably mixed with a few forms of forbidden magics to produce the music."
"Witch," I muttered. "I can't believe I let a witch trick me into thinking that's what my brilliant prose sounded like!"
"It's actually a pretty amazing feat of tech--"
"Shut your mouth, girl." I walked to the window overlooking Rapist's Alley and pondered solemnly. "Perhaps something can be done about this." I turned to her dramatically and exclaimed, "I shall dedicate my life to blogging the perfect symphony!"
"Great," she replied half consciously, as she had already gone back to reading her science babble, "whatever gets words on that webpage, I endorse it."
"That means you're going to have to move. Viruses, remember?" I made shooing motions with my hands and awaited eagerly. She kicked me swiftly in the stomach.
Right now, she's sleeping thanks to a little friend I like to call "chloroform," so I've got to try and speed this up before she--oh! She's moving! Just gotta administer a bit more--there we go. Alright, close call. She'll be out for a while, and I've just about finished up my most recent attempt at musical Eden.
Which gives me just enough time to visit my favorite site...pornandmalware.com. I don't think she'll mind.
-Alex
Visit the awesome site mentioned here
She sighed and slowly spun her chair around to face me, eyebrows a-furrow. "You have your own computer, kindly go use it."
I placed my hand on her face as I pushed her and her wheely chair away from the keyboard. "Yeah, no, I got like, 600 viruses crawling around on that thing. I used to be cool with the little guys, 'cause they'd show me banners of free porn, but then they got wise to me and they've started giving me advertising for hemorrhoid cream, accompanied by graphic application pictures."
"Tough," she barked as she kicked me in the back of my knee, causing my legs to give way. She then proceeded to roll over my shirt and pin me to the floor. "I'm reading something, and I'll not have you infecting my computer, too."
"Jen, this is serious. It's about our blog."
"Oh, god. You haven't made it so that everyone who visits gets infected, too, have you?"
"No, that's not it. I don't think." I managed to shimmy loose of the chair wheel and sit in Jen's lap as I furiously typed in a URL. After several misspellings and an "accidental" visit to pornandmalware.com, I managed to go to the site I was aiming for. "Feast your eyes on this!"
"A piano?" she queried, "What's that got to do with our blog?"
"Look what happens when I type our URL into it." After Jen reminded me what our blog's URL was, I set the magic into motion. The keys of the digital piano began to illuminate in a whimsical dance of music and light, which sounded like two raptors fighting to the death.
"I don't get it."
"That's what our blog sounds like. That is the soundtrack of our escapades, and it sounds like a Wookie caught in a street sweeper. I am blaming this entirely on you and your boring science posts, and nothing you say to argue against my point will be considered valid."
She pushed me out of her lap and scooted her chair closer to the screen. I believe she was trying to stare down the piano until it played better music, but sadly, she did not succeed. "The content doesn't have anything to do with it," she said at last.
"What? How do you know that?"
"Did you not see me reading the information about it just now?" Sure, Jen. Try and dress up your failure, but Alex always knows. "Well, it does have something to do with it, but not necessarily what's been said. Just what letters have been used, which is plugged into an elaborate algorithm and then probably mixed with a few forms of forbidden magics to produce the music."
"Witch," I muttered. "I can't believe I let a witch trick me into thinking that's what my brilliant prose sounded like!"
"It's actually a pretty amazing feat of tech--"
"Shut your mouth, girl." I walked to the window overlooking Rapist's Alley and pondered solemnly. "Perhaps something can be done about this." I turned to her dramatically and exclaimed, "I shall dedicate my life to blogging the perfect symphony!"
"Great," she replied half consciously, as she had already gone back to reading her science babble, "whatever gets words on that webpage, I endorse it."
"That means you're going to have to move. Viruses, remember?" I made shooing motions with my hands and awaited eagerly. She kicked me swiftly in the stomach.
Right now, she's sleeping thanks to a little friend I like to call "chloroform," so I've got to try and speed this up before she--oh! She's moving! Just gotta administer a bit more--there we go. Alright, close call. She'll be out for a while, and I've just about finished up my most recent attempt at musical Eden.
Which gives me just enough time to visit my favorite site...pornandmalware.com. I don't think she'll mind.
-Alex
Visit the awesome site mentioned here
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