Marc
Goddamn computers. I've got a fucking virus, and it's 3:15 in the morning, and I don't want a stupid computer virus. I feel like a helpless damsel right about now. It's this pesky little thing that's attaching itself to all my mp3 files and taking up all my memory, and it's completely overrun the "My Documents" section of my computer. I have absolutely no fucking clue what to do. My Norton AntiVirus things acting all stupid, telling me that it doesn't work, or there's an error that keeps happening, or blah blah. Damn damn heck.
This sucks.
Practiced again tonight, and I can safely say I'm not worried about the show at all. Should be a hoot, actually, what with all the skanking that's bound to take place. Someone's said that they've already sold close to three or four hundred tickets for the damn thing, which I find totally unbelievable, but hey ... that'd be awesome if it were true. Can you imagine? Three or four hundred people all staring at me as I forget every note to every song I've learned in the past two days or so. Wouldn't that be grand?
Oh well. I should go to bed, and turn off my damn computer before it infects my room. What if it got a hold of my cellphone, and then my cellphone infected my stereo, and my stereo infected my bed, and next I know I'm lying asleep, being choked to death by my own blankets. Sonofabitch.
Goddamn computers. I've got a fucking virus, and it's 3:15 in the morning, and I don't want a stupid computer virus. I feel like a helpless damsel right about now. It's this pesky little thing that's attaching itself to all my mp3 files and taking up all my memory, and it's completely overrun the "My Documents" section of my computer. I have absolutely no fucking clue what to do. My Norton AntiVirus things acting all stupid, telling me that it doesn't work, or there's an error that keeps happening, or blah blah. Damn damn heck.
This sucks.
Practiced again tonight, and I can safely say I'm not worried about the show at all. Should be a hoot, actually, what with all the skanking that's bound to take place. Someone's said that they've already sold close to three or four hundred tickets for the damn thing, which I find totally unbelievable, but hey ... that'd be awesome if it were true. Can you imagine? Three or four hundred people all staring at me as I forget every note to every song I've learned in the past two days or so. Wouldn't that be grand?
Oh well. I should go to bed, and turn off my damn computer before it infects my room. What if it got a hold of my cellphone, and then my cellphone infected my stereo, and my stereo infected my bed, and next I know I'm lying asleep, being choked to death by my own blankets. Sonofabitch.
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