Ravea
25-05-2005, 01:55
My printer is messed up.
When I try and print stuff, it gives me pages upon pages of excess crap and mysterious numbers and code. Somewhere in the midst of it lies my project, and god help me if it was more than two pages.
For about every word I want to print, I get four pages. Four pages FULL of crazy crap. I thank the Jesus I'm not using an ink printer, or I'd be blowing thirty dollars on new ink cartridges every time I printed a grocery list.
Now, I've checked my connections. I've fiddled with hardware. I've diddled with software. I've fornicated with technical support. All to no avail.
For this, I am left with the age-old question: Why me? Why does MY printer have to messup? Lord knows I use it a lot. And I take care of it, I love it. I nurture it and cuddle it after sex, even though what I really need to do is get up and take a pee and sit on the couch. I'm GOOD to that thing.
So why?
I have a theory.
It's often been proposed that alien intelligence would someday communicate with us through our own technology. With all the crazy shit on my pages of crazy shit, I'm left to wonder... am I the chosen human specimen?
Because if I am, that would be very flattering.
Eons ago, before the dawn of man, I bought this Hewlett Packard LaserJet 6P black and white printer. It's always served me well... in bed. I can't think of any reason in the world for it to suddenly crap out on me. The only logical explanation is aliens.
And it would make sense that they chose me, because I am so awesome, after all.
I just wish they didn't waste so much goddamned paper.
When the aliens arrive and murder all world leaders so they can appoint me as king of the world, the first thing I'll do is buy a new printer. Then I'll print out fliers that say KETCHUP & EGGS and have them dropped all over Kazakhstan. Why? Because I'm the king, that's why.
I will also make the world clothing-optional.
Furthermore, when I am king, my alien cabinet will be disloyal and concerned in regard to my mental health. There will be murmurs. They'll think I won't notice, but I will. I'm the king. I know everything that goes on here.
So one sunny afternoon, I'll invite them all out on a picnic. It will be a feast for the books, and a grand time will be had by all. I shall eat magic chicken wings, and the aliens will eat whatever aliens like. Mayber spider eggs.
Then I will kill them.
Kill them all.
/Fin.
When I try and print stuff, it gives me pages upon pages of excess crap and mysterious numbers and code. Somewhere in the midst of it lies my project, and god help me if it was more than two pages.
For about every word I want to print, I get four pages. Four pages FULL of crazy crap. I thank the Jesus I'm not using an ink printer, or I'd be blowing thirty dollars on new ink cartridges every time I printed a grocery list.
Now, I've checked my connections. I've fiddled with hardware. I've diddled with software. I've fornicated with technical support. All to no avail.
For this, I am left with the age-old question: Why me? Why does MY printer have to messup? Lord knows I use it a lot. And I take care of it, I love it. I nurture it and cuddle it after sex, even though what I really need to do is get up and take a pee and sit on the couch. I'm GOOD to that thing.
So why?
I have a theory.
It's often been proposed that alien intelligence would someday communicate with us through our own technology. With all the crazy shit on my pages of crazy shit, I'm left to wonder... am I the chosen human specimen?
Because if I am, that would be very flattering.
Eons ago, before the dawn of man, I bought this Hewlett Packard LaserJet 6P black and white printer. It's always served me well... in bed. I can't think of any reason in the world for it to suddenly crap out on me. The only logical explanation is aliens.
And it would make sense that they chose me, because I am so awesome, after all.
I just wish they didn't waste so much goddamned paper.
When the aliens arrive and murder all world leaders so they can appoint me as king of the world, the first thing I'll do is buy a new printer. Then I'll print out fliers that say KETCHUP & EGGS and have them dropped all over Kazakhstan. Why? Because I'm the king, that's why.
I will also make the world clothing-optional.
Furthermore, when I am king, my alien cabinet will be disloyal and concerned in regard to my mental health. There will be murmurs. They'll think I won't notice, but I will. I'm the king. I know everything that goes on here.
So one sunny afternoon, I'll invite them all out on a picnic. It will be a feast for the books, and a grand time will be had by all. I shall eat magic chicken wings, and the aliens will eat whatever aliens like. Mayber spider eggs.
Then I will kill them.
Kill them all.
/Fin.