W
Will
Guest
All right, I'm not much on story writing, or poetry. My forte is, as my friend likes to call them, "caustic essays." I try to model writing, loosely, after Dave Barry. (I hope at least some of you know who Dave Barry is.)
Tell me, if you could, what you think of the essay, if you have any improvements (i.e., grammar, spelling, puctuation), and if you think I'm any good at this whole writing thing. I want to go into journalism in college...I think. (I've got a year to decide, we'll see what happens.)
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I Blame Bill Gates
I have many technologically advanced friends (that’s computer geeks to us anti-political correctness people). And I know there are going to be many who read this essay who are the same way. I give you a caveat: I’m technologically slow (computer retard). So, when I’m saying things that sound really boiled down, and stupid, they are; don’t think about it, just read … and laugh if you feel so inclined.
Recently, my computer decided that it hated me. You may be asking your self “Self! How can a computer hate someone?” Well, my feeble-minded friend, because Bill Gates hates everyone, that’s how. Now, Bill Gates is a genius in his own accord – mainly screwing the world out of being able to have a computer that works properly, and thereby having to buy superfluous tidbits (i.e., books, your own personal tech support person) to get your piece of crap working.
Bill Gates has monopolized every aspect computerness - from that one thing with the thing to that other thing for the thing. And everything he’s installed on my piece of crap … umm … I mean my computer has broke. The internet hates me – it refuses to let me sign on to various instant messengers, and doesn’t allow me to download virtually anything. Outlook Express, just today, has decided that it hates me too. The stupid thing won’t let me open up my e-mail. I can receive all the e-mail I want, but I can’t open it. This makes perfect sense I realize. When I want to reinstall, or upgrade anything, I can’t. Nothing is signed to be compatible with Windows XP: The Devil’s Briefcase. That’s right, when I try to fix The Devil’s Briefcase I can’t because Bill Gates hates me.
So, we see that Bill Gates hates me, and everyone else who he’s pawned his crap off to. And now he’s sitting in his lofty mansion on the planet Bill Gates with three-breasted alien women fanning him while he uses his de-bugged Windows God-only-knows-what, whilst pushing up his thick, goose-eyed glasses, naked (a despicable, mangy, thin body with absolutely no hair on it because he’s too busy with his computers to actually hit puberty) looking up alien porn because he’s a freak. God forbid he try and make something that doesn’t suck. All I want out of that pathetic excuse for even a computer geek is a computer that works properly; one where I don’t have to talk to friends about how I can get it to work – one where I don’t have to call up the geniuses (and I use that term loosely) at technical support. I want a computer where, I turn it on, I log on, and the piece of crap doesn’t have bad news every time. I want a computer where I can think: Hmm, I’m glad I have a computer. It makes my life easier.
But do I get that? No. I get a computer where, if I could find a shot gun, I’d shoot the thing into oblivion and back just so I can pee on it when it comes back, and smash it with a sledge hammer. I get a computer that even the technologically advanced tell me “You’re screwed.” I get a computer that no one can fix because it’s that screwed up. I get the only computer on the face of the planet where the brains (or whatever they’re called) are programmed to hate Steven Kaser. I get a computer where Bill Gates has personally programmed my computer, in that nasally, geeky, hiccupy, mine of a laugh, to fall apart on delivery – to be the best (or worst depending on perspective) piece of crap he’s ever turned out.
And what does the world get? They get his residual hate. They get whatever evil scheme Bill Gates has come up with. They get a scheme that would turn Gandhi from a love and peace guru to a crazed Indian rebel rebelling against the tyrannical forces that are Bill Gates and His Minions of Computer Doom screaming at the top of his lungs “GANDHI SMAAAAAASH!!!!!” He’d be smacking down his wrath upon the Minions of Computer Doom. Smack! “Love and peace!” he would shriek with the shriek of a banshee in the woods on the hunt for the invading white man, only he’d be on the prowl for the Minions of Computer Doom and their malevolent leader Bill Gates. (Is it just me, or is this starting to sound like a wicked cool video game?)
Do you know why Bill Gates does this? Yes, he hates the world, especially Will, but there’s another reason. He still, STILL, hasn’t gotten over being picked on in high school. So, I blame the world being in shambles on people in their forties because they couldn’t just shut up and let a computer geek be. He does this because he has issues and he’s not man enough to get over them. So I blame you, you old people. It’s your fault. It’s your fault I can’t leave the computer happy. It’s your fault I have to punch through walls. It’s your fault I wrote this essay.
But most of all, it’s Bill Gates’s fault for not being a man. I blame him for being a wimp and not being man enough to just get over it. I blame him for making crappy products, and monopolizing computer products. I blame him most of all for making me feel retarded. If it weren’t for you, you scrawny waste of a human being, I’d be doing something worthwhile now, and not trying understand what your minions (the stupid tech support people and everyone else who understands computers) are trying to tell me. Because they speak in an enigmatic, coded language that only they can understand, I get treated like a peon.
In conclusion, I hope I didn’t alienate anyone except Bill Gates and his Minions of Computer Doom. I try not to be mean, hateful, vengeful (oh, and there will be sweet vengeance – sweet vengeance upon the soulless bodies of his evil empire), but when you treat me like crap, and refuse to help me, I will get angry, as has been shown here.
Tell me, if you could, what you think of the essay, if you have any improvements (i.e., grammar, spelling, puctuation), and if you think I'm any good at this whole writing thing. I want to go into journalism in college...I think. (I've got a year to decide, we'll see what happens.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I Blame Bill Gates
I have many technologically advanced friends (that’s computer geeks to us anti-political correctness people). And I know there are going to be many who read this essay who are the same way. I give you a caveat: I’m technologically slow (computer retard). So, when I’m saying things that sound really boiled down, and stupid, they are; don’t think about it, just read … and laugh if you feel so inclined.
Recently, my computer decided that it hated me. You may be asking your self “Self! How can a computer hate someone?” Well, my feeble-minded friend, because Bill Gates hates everyone, that’s how. Now, Bill Gates is a genius in his own accord – mainly screwing the world out of being able to have a computer that works properly, and thereby having to buy superfluous tidbits (i.e., books, your own personal tech support person) to get your piece of crap working.
Bill Gates has monopolized every aspect computerness - from that one thing with the thing to that other thing for the thing. And everything he’s installed on my piece of crap … umm … I mean my computer has broke. The internet hates me – it refuses to let me sign on to various instant messengers, and doesn’t allow me to download virtually anything. Outlook Express, just today, has decided that it hates me too. The stupid thing won’t let me open up my e-mail. I can receive all the e-mail I want, but I can’t open it. This makes perfect sense I realize. When I want to reinstall, or upgrade anything, I can’t. Nothing is signed to be compatible with Windows XP: The Devil’s Briefcase. That’s right, when I try to fix The Devil’s Briefcase I can’t because Bill Gates hates me.
So, we see that Bill Gates hates me, and everyone else who he’s pawned his crap off to. And now he’s sitting in his lofty mansion on the planet Bill Gates with three-breasted alien women fanning him while he uses his de-bugged Windows God-only-knows-what, whilst pushing up his thick, goose-eyed glasses, naked (a despicable, mangy, thin body with absolutely no hair on it because he’s too busy with his computers to actually hit puberty) looking up alien porn because he’s a freak. God forbid he try and make something that doesn’t suck. All I want out of that pathetic excuse for even a computer geek is a computer that works properly; one where I don’t have to talk to friends about how I can get it to work – one where I don’t have to call up the geniuses (and I use that term loosely) at technical support. I want a computer where, I turn it on, I log on, and the piece of crap doesn’t have bad news every time. I want a computer where I can think: Hmm, I’m glad I have a computer. It makes my life easier.
But do I get that? No. I get a computer where, if I could find a shot gun, I’d shoot the thing into oblivion and back just so I can pee on it when it comes back, and smash it with a sledge hammer. I get a computer that even the technologically advanced tell me “You’re screwed.” I get a computer that no one can fix because it’s that screwed up. I get the only computer on the face of the planet where the brains (or whatever they’re called) are programmed to hate Steven Kaser. I get a computer where Bill Gates has personally programmed my computer, in that nasally, geeky, hiccupy, mine of a laugh, to fall apart on delivery – to be the best (or worst depending on perspective) piece of crap he’s ever turned out.
And what does the world get? They get his residual hate. They get whatever evil scheme Bill Gates has come up with. They get a scheme that would turn Gandhi from a love and peace guru to a crazed Indian rebel rebelling against the tyrannical forces that are Bill Gates and His Minions of Computer Doom screaming at the top of his lungs “GANDHI SMAAAAAASH!!!!!” He’d be smacking down his wrath upon the Minions of Computer Doom. Smack! “Love and peace!” he would shriek with the shriek of a banshee in the woods on the hunt for the invading white man, only he’d be on the prowl for the Minions of Computer Doom and their malevolent leader Bill Gates. (Is it just me, or is this starting to sound like a wicked cool video game?)
Do you know why Bill Gates does this? Yes, he hates the world, especially Will, but there’s another reason. He still, STILL, hasn’t gotten over being picked on in high school. So, I blame the world being in shambles on people in their forties because they couldn’t just shut up and let a computer geek be. He does this because he has issues and he’s not man enough to get over them. So I blame you, you old people. It’s your fault. It’s your fault I can’t leave the computer happy. It’s your fault I have to punch through walls. It’s your fault I wrote this essay.
But most of all, it’s Bill Gates’s fault for not being a man. I blame him for being a wimp and not being man enough to just get over it. I blame him for making crappy products, and monopolizing computer products. I blame him most of all for making me feel retarded. If it weren’t for you, you scrawny waste of a human being, I’d be doing something worthwhile now, and not trying understand what your minions (the stupid tech support people and everyone else who understands computers) are trying to tell me. Because they speak in an enigmatic, coded language that only they can understand, I get treated like a peon.
In conclusion, I hope I didn’t alienate anyone except Bill Gates and his Minions of Computer Doom. I try not to be mean, hateful, vengeful (oh, and there will be sweet vengeance – sweet vengeance upon the soulless bodies of his evil empire), but when you treat me like crap, and refuse to help me, I will get angry, as has been shown here.
