|
||||||||||
|
||||||||||
This is an archive site only. It is no longer maintained.
You can not post comments. You can not make an account. Your email
will not be read. Please read this
page if you have questions. |
||||||||||
The pale glow from the iBook's 12" screen lit Trollaxor's tired face. "Details on Mac OS X.1" read the headline on MacNN. Trollaxor read with interest, as he planned to run Mac OS X. Someday. For now... |
|||||||||||||||
...his little trusty little iBook's hard drive (it regualrly ate itself) and CD-ROM drive (it was, simply, broken) prevented him from doing so. But his 320 MB RAM sure allowed him to chat on AIM and surf the web faster than ever before. iTunes roared as well, and barely skipped his favorite 80s MP3s when he switched applications. After clicking on the comments link, Trollaxor began posting a little comment of his own. One he posted often. His face lit up as he typed. "Mac OS X.1..." (he began in the subject) "...is totally gay!!!" (he finished in the body). He giggled, the pack of cigarettes he's smoked during the day obvious in his raspy chuckle. In just a few minutes kneejerking Macbots would ask why someone had bothered to post such a stupid comment, or why someone would want to spread their homophobia all over MacNN, or how whomever was "posting this garbage ought to gro wthe fuck up!" And he'd giggle harder and harder as he read them, and harder stil when the exasperated MacNN admins had deleted his comment. Trollaxor grunted as the web page full of gay porn he was using to research an article for Geekizoid with was replaced by MacsBug with a PowerPC memory exception at #2F45A3. Damn Internet Explorer, he thought, and damn Netscape more for not releasing a decent browser and forcing him into using a Microsoft product! After killing the app, Trollaxor feverishly relaunched the web page he'd been looking at. It was then that he heard the familiar Instant Message sound. It was his friend from back in Ohio, Error 808. Error 808: the shipment came in, and i made out like a fucking bandit. you still want half of it? Trollaxor closed the window, thinking of the brand-spankin' new Transformers he'd be able to play with soon. He opened his pants and let out a ripping fart. The smell filled the basement he was living in, and it was time to finish the second half of his squid curry (the source of the fart in the first place). He dug in, flecks of tentacle and chile skin dropping on his shirt or lodging itself in his week's worth of stubble. He had to eat fast, because in a few minutes he was supposed to go looking at apartments... to be continued... |