I'm convinced that my computer has the ability to read my mind, as well as what I type here, and completely understand it. I convinced myself that the computer was cured, and typed as much a few days ago. NEVER do that. My computer likes to take advantage of my unsuspecting nature.
My computer also has a personality. Human traits. No, we're not talking Type A personality here. It's more like the spoiled cousin from Omaha who you see every 6 years or so. And now that he's reached puberty, you understand that incarceration within the penal system is the only future at hand for this guy.
Yep, computer took a mini-vacation from reality courtesy of a worm / virus. Nasty one too, something called W95/MTX. Spent three days kicking and flailing about in a tantrum. Had to call in the Wiz to give it shots. Calm it down, as it were. For which the Wiz cheerfully parted $80 from me.
With a few hiccups, little cousin computer is back. But I have this vision now, of a 14 year old with short pants, spiked hair and an evil grin. Who lingers just out of reach, waiting for his next opportunity.
Happy Birthday to Ally, who turned 41 yesterday. I've spent 21 years with this woman and she never had a happier one.
Corporate partner Stu and I made an unspoken decision to get Ally the perfect birthday present. The gift of the drunk. We succeeded, apparently, on a riotus scale. Ally isn't much of a drinker. That is to say, she doesn't inbibe often enough to merit that classification. Like anything else, to get to be a good drinker you have to practice. Often. Every day. Get yourself into a training regimine.
So we plied her with drink (that always sounds like a legal or biblical thing, plied with drink). We wanted to put her on an etherial level. You know, the state of serenity and happiness and fun and whatever else that alcohol was invented for.
Professionally, if not expertly, Stu mixed drinks and quickly brought her up to a state of giggling. Then tossed in a beer for body, and a coffee as a litmus tester. A couple shots of Parrot Bay and the deed was done.
We stepped back to admire our work. The calm, reasoned mother of 3 was transformed into a jive dancing, laughing and pretty darned horny 19 year old. Perfect.
Later on, I even got MY birthday present. Hee hee.
There are no limits to my largesse.
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