Today's technology is amazing. We can save premature born babies. Stop heart attacks before they start. Know next week's weather, although there still are several glitches in that department. Download movies still in movie theaters, watch them, record them, then sell them on the streets of Venice Beach for five bucks a pop. If lonely we can have sex with battery operated toys, or for a few extra bucks plug it in with an AC adapter. We can always find friends with our handy cell phones when we lose them in the Super Wal-mart. We have satellite systems that give us over 900 cable channels. We have PDA's, walkie talkies, fax machines, digital cameras. But for all of these really cool gadgets these geniuses come up with you know what they forgot to make? Someone to fix my F-ing Computer.

Girlfriends are typically unable to help when your computer decides to say something like, “Fuck you, you downloaded too much shit and didn't use anti-virus protection on your computer. I gave you everything and you gave me the digital equivalent of syphilis. We're through. I'm not letting you get past start up before displaying the blue screen of death. No more music. No more movies. No more porn. Goodbye.” I'm dramatic therefore my computer is too. So what do girls do when they need help fixing their computer? They hunt out any guy they know and in a sweet sultry, slutty way, ask them to take a look at it. See if they can do anything. And if the sex look doesn't work we resort to promising them a free six-pack if they can get our asses back online faster than you can type LOL. And you know what, the sweet promise of ice cold beer always works. Just make sure you give it to him after he fixes the computer, not during. I learned that one the hard way. Once the beer reaches their lips they get laziness in their blood stream.

It doesn't matter what kind of anti-virus is installed on my computer, I download enough crap that something slips in. When I took my trusty computer to our school's computer service department who employs sophomore standing computer science majors to manhandle our laptops and fondle our hard drives with their unwashed screw drivers and pliers. Needless to say these 20-year-old technological geniuses were unable to determine what was wrong and just blamed Kazaa, Napster, and Bearshare. Told me to uninstall them or use my rescue CD's and start over. Start over? I have over 2,000 songs. 20 recently released movies, and a little under 100 music videos. It took five years and a gazillion hours of downloading time because like most of us, I started pirating software back in the day of dial-up. Don't use Kazaa as your scapegoat you ignorant, tapered-jean-wearing, programming imbecile.

I really have no one to blame but myself. Actually no. I am going to blame my dad. Our family's computer always had the most high-tech anti-virus software ever invented. I couldn't even sign online and check my email without forty messages popping up telling me about potential spies and unauthorized clearance and don't forget to download the latest version of the anti-virus every fifteen fucking minutes. And I've never been blessed with athleticism so taking on these firewalls in cyber space was more trouble than it was worth. Consequently when I got my own computer I refused to have an anti-virus protection and believed the Internet was a nice wholesome place where adware and spam was annoying, but would never really infect my computer with a virus.

Errrr! Wrong. So I had no choice. I lost everything this past week. I started over with the rescue CD's. I used to have AOL 9.0. Currently I have 4.0. Everything was lost. My material for this week's article. My journals from the past two years. The history research paper I have been working on since the beginning of the term. (Not really, but you're damn sure I'm going to use this mechanical mishap to get that extension.) My music. My movies. Lost. Lost. Lost in cyberspace. Lost forever. And with the death of my computer I offer this eulogy.

When we were introduced.
You were so brand new.
Huge monitor all shiny.
Windows 98. How I loved you.

We were the best of friends.
You played and I listened.
I'd wash away the dorm room dust.
Oh how you glistened.

Then came the cable connection.
The infamous T1 line.
I downloaded 30 songs.
In five minutes of time.

Looking back I should have helped more
Should have gotten you a check up now and then.
Too much adware caused you to crash to the point
Where not even computer geeks could mend.

So now it's time to say goodbye.
I loved you so and it's true.
It's time to start downloading again.
Don't ever say we're through.