I was writing an email to my aunt today, begging her to guest star a story of hers on this wonderful blog of mine. (Can't wait till she sees this. Hope she understands flattery.) So, I was writing the email, telling her what I'd like the story to be about and what has been up in my life—why I was so sad lately, these creepy calls I got late at night telling me to "come outside and play," my plans to become the first mulatto astronaut, how I'm thinking of becoming a lawyer—and other cries for help. The problem came when I thought the adjective of humor was humorfull. That was not the case. I was well on my way to finishing the email when I saw the red squiggly line under humorfull. I laughed at the computer for it is only a machine and I was smarter than it. I took into consideration that maybe—for once—I might be wrong. So, I took off an "L." When that didn't work I proceeded to yell at the machine, cursing it for all its wrongdoings. "Remember Y2K!?!? That almost crumbled us!" I yelled at it.

No response. Now, I watch a lot of Law & Order and they taught me that silence was an admission of guilt. Fury coursed through my veins, my eyes were hot, and my heart was racing. "So it's true…?"

No response. Admission of guilt.

"And all these years?? Thinking we were the ones who overreacted!" Spittle launched from my mouth and hit the screen.

No response. Admission of guilt.

"I dare say…. you crafty devil."

Right then, out of nowhere, a thought occurred to me. The dictionary, man made that. Strunk and White, they were pioneers. It alone held the answer. I flew upstairs and carefully retrieved the dictionary out of its home on top of the pillar. I flipped to the "H" section and down to "humor." There—right there, it was listed as "humorous."

I threw the dictionary against the wall and sank down to the floor. Boy George's “The Crying Game” started playing seemingly out of thin air. I ran my hands through my hair muttering to myself about "when the machines take over I will be the first to go because of my innate inability to reason" and how "I should've listened more in math when the teacher was talking about proofs."

I gathered myself up into the fetal position and let the tears flow because I had a lot of pent-up emotions. My pet rock had ran away days before this, it was finally time for me to grieve. I didn't know how long I was lying on the floor but thirty minutes later I arose, with tear streaked eyes and sulked back to the computer. I apologized profusely for my outburst, changed the word to "humorous" and sent the email.

PS: The computer and I are going out to dinner tonight. Its treat.

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