My Brand New Computer

So, I spent a week building a computer from parts.  My old computer just stopped working right so I bought, first, a screaming new graphics card and, second, a more powerful power supply to fuel the screaming graphics card.  That didn’t help, so I said, “Fuck it.  I’ll buy a motherboard, a microprocessor, some RAM, and assorted other expensive shit to make a brand new computer.”  I was drunk when I said that.

And then I spent a whole week putting it together.  A.  Whole.  Week!  I did not go out to eat for that week.  I did not go to any clubs or get laid for that week.  I did watch some TV, but mostly out of frustration.  Every day after work I would come home to the $2,000+ brick sitting on my desk in pieces.  Then I would spend all night trying to get the fucking computer running by applying the new shit I had learned from the internet at my job while I had been pretending to work and to be a Good Noodle.  Yes, I drank during this time, but it was not pleasant drinking.  It was why-the-fuck-isn’t-this-piece-of-shit-working? drinking.  And I also engaged in many of the other mind-altering activities I frequently undertake—among many others, these include drinking coffee, eating cake, and watching Sunday morning television.  These did not help either.

It turned out finally that the motherboard was not sending enough power to the memory chips.  Maybe that sounds like an easy thing to discover to you, but it took me a whole fucking week.  While I readily admit that I am stoopider than you are, that does not mean that I have a week of my life to spare on shit like this without getting laid or, at least, a blowjob.  I am getting old too quickly to waste a week of my life.

Here is how old I am getting: the other day, I went to the supermarket to buy sugar.  Usually I do not buy sugar or anything else from the supermarket.  I had not been to a supermarket in about a year.  I go to bodegas to buy everything I really need, like toilet tissue.  But hell, in a pinch I will wipe my ass with ATM receipts. 

I go to Starbucks everyday to get coffee while I am at work, so why the fuck would I need sugar?  Yes, I do make coffee every morning, but I steal Splenda from Starbucks for my morning coffee.  Now, holed up in my fucking study putting together my goddamn computer, I could not go to Starbucks.  I had to make coffee so I could stay up all night and work on the computer.  So I ran out of stolen Splenda.  And Splenda is too goddamn expensive for me to buy when I can just steal it for free, so I had to go out and buy some sugar to get me through a week or more of putting a computer together.

Now I know I live in the middle of the glorious island of Manhattan in New York City where everything is expensive.  For instance, on Tuesday cigarettes went up to $9.00 a pack here.  I am convinced that New York City wants for me to smoke more weed.  I mean, think about it: many people who work at shitty mcjobs — like many jobs that I have had in the past, but that is a topic for a different entry — do not earn enough money during an hour of the precious time they have on this planet to buy a fucking pack of cigarettes!  That’s an hour of their life gone, and they do not even make enough to buy fucking cigarettes in New York City.

But, still, at my local supermarket, the fucking sugar was six bucks for a five-pound bag.  And that was only because it was on sale.  It was regularly $7.50.  $7.50!  That just pissed me off.

That is the first sign that I am getting old.  In my age-addled brain, I said to myself, “When I was a kid, you could buy twenty pounds of freshly ground sugar for a dime and there was a toy inside every bag!”  See, when you think that the price of any food item is so fucking outrageous that it makes you angry, you are getting too fucking old.

The second sign that I am getting old: I was so pissed about the price that, for a moment, I actually considered complaining about the price of the fucking sugar.  You are old when you will complain to someone about the price of food.

So I just bought the sugar without complaining.  But from now on I am going to steal Splenda and sugar from Starbucks. 

I wish I could have just stolen my computer.

Once I figured that shit out about the power to the memory, Windows Vista 64 installed just fine and the system is fucking screaming!  Screaming!  It is much faster than any prebuilt name-brand system I could have stolen.

That’s really all I have to say about my new computer. 

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