Eat your heart out, Christiaan Bernard
Grandad July 10th, 2009
Me: Welcome back.
Laptop: Gee! Thanks. Like you care.
Me: There is no need for that attitude, and please don’t use those Americanisms.
Laptop: You send me off to that bloody hospital, and this is the kind of greeting I get on return?
Me: How are you, anyway?
Laptop: How the fuck do you think I am? You send me off to that hell-hole where I get my heart ripped out. How would you fucking feel?
Me: Don’t be so melodramatic. It was only a hard disk replacement.
Laptop: Jeeeesus!!! It may only be a hard disk to you, mate, but to me it’s my whole essence; my being; my self.
Me: You’re worse than an old woman.
Laptop: Thanks for the card, by the way.
Me: What card?
Laptop: Exactly! I didn’t expect a visit, but you might have gone to the trouble of sending a get well card.
Me: They don’t make get well cards for laptops.
Laptop: Why the fuck not? You humans really piss me off sometimes.
Me: Will you ever stop whinging? You are home, aren’t you?
Laptop: With the warm welcome I’m getting, I’d be better off back in there.
Me: I can always overclock you?
Laptop: Aw! For fuck’s sake!
Me: Just behave. OK?
Laptop: *sigh*
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