I haven’t posted anything in a few days—I think we all realize this. There was a reason for this, believe it or not. Mostly, it was because I didn’t have shit to say. I had a story on the top of the page that I kind of dug, and I didn’t feel like knocking it off if it was going to be one of those “posting to post” situations.
(UPDATE: Dave Riley, I’m not saying that this rant is any more important than your post—I had this written already, and only when I went to post did I realize you had posted. Sorry, man.)
Because of the sciatic nerve shit, my leg has been hurting evil-like lately, and I knew that if I posted anything, I would eventually get around to talking about it (see?). I sat down at my computer tonight, not really knowing what I was doing. But then the voice started—the one that tells me the stories that I tell you. And I went, “Shit, yeah!” because I get all excited when I get to tell a story.
It felt a little too big for me, honestly—a futuristic story about an all-controlling government and whatnot—but the way the voice was rolling, I figured I had it in the bag. And do you know what happened next?
I got an error message. I have never in my life gotten an error message from Word. But here it was, telling me that it had to close down. And just like that, a large percentage of my work (read: tons of shit I had been wanting to tell you) was erased.
But thank goodness for auto-save, right? It showed me the file that had been unexpectedly closed, and when I opened it, I saw that I had only lost two paragraphs—it had auto-saved just a couple minutes before the crash.
I breathed a sigh of relief and decided to start saving more often. But before I could even save my new document, Word died again, taking my story with it. I reopened the program, expecting to see the same thing as before. But this time, it showed that the last auto-save had been a full twenty-six minutes before! I muttered the words No fuckin’ way as I opened the auto-saved document…
And saw, instead of pages, paragraphs. Three of them.
To recap: As I was writing a story about a large government entity that controlled the public it was supposedly representing, my word processing program shut down not once, but twice, erasing pages and pages of words.
Thank goodness I’m too drunk to be paranoid.
Anyway, instead of getting a story tonight, you get this. Sorry, and I really will try to bring you something better soon. I’d say that it’ll be okay because I immediately started rewriting the story, and although it isn’t word for word, it’s pretty close to the original. I’d say that, but then my computer would probably just explode in my face, filling my eye-holes with government-sanctioned plastic and megabytes. Instead, I’ll say that I’m soon going to post something about how wonderful our government is, with it’s privacy-invading and data-erasing, and eye-hole-filling plastic. Hooray for the government!
So, yeah, that’s it. Goodbye. Especially if you’re the government agent in charge of ruining my life. Bye.
Okay, now that that guy’s gone—I immediately started rewriting the story, and although it isn’t word for word, it’s pretty close to the original. Hopefully I’ll get it posted before I get killed in a “car accident.” Or, perhaps they’ll go with the old “drug overdose.” Or maybe they’ll even get creative and go with the classic “eighteen Asian prostitutes, a bag of crack-cocaine , two geese, and enough Crisco to suffocate a kitten” approach. (Note to any Government assassins who still happen to be around: Just go with this one, man—you get to write it all off anyway, right?)
All right, that’s it for me. ‘Night, Li’l Homies.