A Geek Tragedy
Thursday, July 19, 2007
My computer
-By My Grandmother
I just got a new computerbox and it's a good'n
It has the following Speculations:
-1.4 gigglehurts Dual Corpse Processor
-120 Gigahurtz Hard drive
-512 megachip RAMs
-2-layer dvd box that burns and rips
- 20" LSD screen
-A CD
-A Rom
- At lest one BIO
-Windows (One on each side)
-Migs and Gigs of... you know... whatever
- 100bmps fully duplexed Nick.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
My TV is stupid. Everyone and everything on it is just plain stupid. Channel 2... Stupid, channel 3... Stupid, channel 4 doesn't come in too well, channel 5... stupid. It's just people on the TV just do stupid things to get laughs, and the audience laughs because they, in turn, are stupid too. Then, there are these reality shows with people doing things I've never seen ANYONE do in reality. I wish there was a knob on my TV that makes people smarter. There IS one labeled "Brightness", but that didn't work. More than that, I wish I had a small button on my remote that allowed me to send a mild electrical shock to whomever is on TV. I know for a fact that I would end up abusing this power, but in the meantime, a lot of people would get what's coming to them. That moron on the news who is protesting something that only an idiot would protest (Which is why he's protesting in the first place) and the girl on the daytime talk show would get about seven hundred and thirty volts every time she says "You don't know me!" Listen, Sweets. I DO know you, which is why I continuously push this little button. You are a 15-year-old girl who is obnoxiously headstrong and is in dire need of a tush-whoopin'. You parade around in your little tramp outfit and whore-like makeup palate all in a a vain attempt to come off as an adult capable of making informed personal decisions. Not foolin' anybody. Except maybe that idiot over on channel 8. He'd buy anything.
Friday, May 07, 2004
The often time I sat and wonder whom was watchin I Through the window. No, don't leaves me alone. I wish, not wonder, who was going to talk about to me. Do? Like, I has as always. Sure. I guess.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
There lives a small animal, near the Amazon Basin, that threatens the civility and well being of the local tribes living in the area. It eats vegetation, destroying the local economy of the natives. The creature is the dreaded Smurf. Peaceful natives rely on their smurfberry crops which are being systematically plucked from the ground from these "Blue Devils", which stand no more than 4 inches tall. Closely related to the Smurfs are the Snorks, a water borne Smurf, which is also part of the rodentia-fraggle family. Smurfs have a "Queen Bee" style society with the leader a male, known as the "Papa Smurf", all other Smurfs are under the control of the Papa Smurf and follow his wisdom and advice. Other smurfs play specifically selected roles within the community and most colonies have only one female and all the males try to mate with the female by impressing her with a certain personality trait (Smart, funny, etc) which remains constant throughout the life span of the Smurf and remains unique to that Smurf. Some natives infested with these pests have started spraying their fields with a poison causing death within seconds of contact, but not everybody can afford chemicals. Most rely of systematically stomping on Smurfs in the field, which provides crops with needed nutrients. Biologist Dr. Fredrick Gargamel is the researcher the United States sent in a good will mission to rid fields of these pests. "What they lack in common sense, they make up for in numbers" said the 'Down and Out' researcher. "I came here with next to no funding or supplies, but my main concern is riding these pests using any means possible." Dr. Gargamel, having no supplies of his own, resorts to eating Smurfs and using them to turn a profit in order to fund his ongoing task. "The only food source is the smurfberries themselves, and there is barely enough to sustain the lives of the locals. So, I had to resort to eating Smurfs." He then added "[Smurfs taste] a bit like Chicken, but just sweeter, due to the berries they eat." But, despite the efforts, the fields are still overrun by Smurfs.
Monday, April 26, 2004
What is this thing crawling on me? Eew! It has a hundred legs. This is vile. It crawled from under the sofa, and then it ran to the side of the tv, but couldn't crawl up it, so it scurried behind the video cabinet. I lost visual contact with him for five minutes, but when the commercial came back on, I saw him dash between the lamp and back to the tv. This sucker's pretty fast. He made it from the lamp around the coffee table then to the sofa in under 8 seconds. I watched him crawl on my foot. He sat there on my foot for the longest time. Probably because it was warm. Then he crawled into my pant leg. I felt him crawl up to my knee, but couldn't fit any further up, so he eventually turned around and headed back down. He crawled back onto the floor and scurried under my leg. I lost interest in him, but soon felt him crawl over my hand. Then up my arm. What is this thing crawling on me?
I went to one crazy restaurant. All the food was crazy. The waiters were crazy. Even the prices were crazy. On second thought, it might have been prison.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
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Saturday, April 24, 2004
I cautiously drew my gun. Derek was around here somewhere. I pressed my back tight against the wall with the gun close to my face, I slowly peaked around the corner. Bam! A bullet hit the wall six inches from my mouth. I pulled back, ducked behind a forklift and aimed for a barrel of highly corrosive chemicals. Derek ran around the corner and I let my .45 fly. The bullet pierced the thin metal of the barrel causing an explosion that knocked the forklift over, almost crushing myself. I pulled myself up, still pointing my gun at Derek. The smoke cleared and Derek was still standing. I pumped the last five bullets in my chamber into his chest. He didn't flinch. "Dang!" I yelled. "He's got Skintanium Armor." Derek reached into his holster and pulled out a Jolt Plasma Rifle. I put my foot on the overturned forklift and pushed myself into a backflip, narrowly avoiding the plasma charge, as I grabbed my fusion pistol and fired back before ever hitting the ground. The Fusion charge shattered his armor leaving his body vulnerable to the extreme heat of the burning hallway. Flesh separated from bone as Derek slowly was burned to a crisp. "I win." I said. "Dang it!" Derek said as he threw down the controller. "You wanna play another?" He asked. "No," I said. "It's pretty late. I'll see you later." I grabbed my book-bag and my jacket and walked out of Derek's house. "I'll get you next time!" Derek yelled as I was walking home. So I shot him.
Dear Mr. Flywood,
My name is Chris Rydin and I was asked by the 43rd District Court to address a letter to everybody on my block to apologize for the "Disturbance" (For the lack of a better word) on March 27th of this year. I was informed (By friends and police reports) that, at 11:48 p.m, I had run from my house screaming and ranting like a drunken lunatic yelling threats at passing cars and inanimate objects. I was arrested and charged with drunken misconduct, but the charges were dropped when they gave me the breathalyzer and discovered I hadn't been drinking at all that night. If I had offended you or any of your inanimate objects, please contact me (248-555-3426) for a "Non-court-mandated" apology. Also, on a personal note, I'm sorry I vomited on you at the last block party. I never had Neapolitan Ice Cream before, and the taste overwhelmed my olfactory senses and I lost it. I would pay for dry cleaning, but you never got a police report on the incident, so you have no proof it was me.
-Sincerely,
Chris Rydin
(P.S. Tell your hot wife I said 'Hi')
