Where has my moonshine gone / Bleed me dry, you're not the one / oh where oh where has my moonshine gone

Ye Quacking Gods! How disgustingly hot it is. Amazing! What the f#ck do people like about this weather? It's awful. As I write this I'm sweating like a Nazi with a conscience. Just disgusting. I went shopping in my travelling sauna I used to call a car. I now realise it's some sort of steam room come torture chamber. My forehead is literally p#ssing sweat off it.

I've spent most of the day inside thinking that this will keep me out of the direct sunlight and therefore heat. I've also had things to do today like finding invoices and tax stuff. None of which I've found. Every bit of paper I've tried to touch has been damp by the time I've finished with it.

Then while I'm ploughing through all this cr#p my computer puts up a notice:


"Oh s#it!" I think. Best have a look at that. What could it possibly mean?

So I click on it and Norton Anti Virus tells me it's connecting to the internet. Fair enough I think. If it's important I guess that's okay. Then I get a little pop up telling me about the new exctinig discounts that Packard Bell are offering.

What the f~ck? I hate pop ups! I almost bought one of those rubbish Apple* computers because they apparently do not have pop ups. I've bought loads of stupid virus software and spyware programmes and so forth BECAUSE I HATE POP UPS. What's the f~cking deal, when you're busy and worrying about the fact YOU'VE GOT NO F#CKING MONEY this stupid Packard Bell thing goes and makes me connect to the internet... JUST TO SEE A POP UP??

The reason that I hate pop ups is when I was first ever left alone with a computer the situation went something like this...

"Mmm. Computers are supposed to have porn on them. Brilliant. I'll just type in something and see if anything comes up. Then I'll have a quick look and then I'll get back to work."


"Brilliant. My plan is working, look at all the things that Netscape** has found for me. This is most excellent. I'll just find one to click on here..."

N-A-U-G-H-T-Y--B-I-G B-O-O-B-E-D--G-I-R-L-S--S-U-C-K--C-#-C-K

"Ha ha, excellent. Here comes the fun. Ooops. Hang on a minute, I didn't ask for more than one window to open. What's going on? Bloody h#ll! There's about 12 windows of this crap. And it's made something my homepage. Oh no! Someone's coming."

Not in a sexual way. Someone was coming up the stairs. Not like that. I mean. There was a bloke about to enter. The room. Urrgh. I can't even relate the story without getting into a sticky situation. I wasn't in a sticky situation. At the time. Not literally anyway.

I was not w#nking.


Anyway. Pop-ups. All over the shop. From that point onwards I looked at the idea of owning a computer through somewhat jaded eyes. I'd been used by a porn site. Now I've limited my hatered down to one thing. Pop-ups.

And so Packard Bell, in order to get through all the anti-pop up decvices I've got on here, send me a message which looks important but ends up just loading up a pop up. Which I closed.

I did not get caught in the office w#nking.


*My girlfriend's got one. I've no reason to think it's rubbish I just say things like that to wind her up a bit. "Hi babes"... if you still read this nonsense. I know you're Apple isn't rubbish really. It's great.

**Yes webheads, Netscape. That really dates this story for anyone who is really cybergeeky.


Yesman said…
Ah, Netscape - I remember that. You could bookmark sites instead of sticking them in your favourites - so much more cerebral.
The dark days of pop-ups left a vicious scar of my early internet experience when I innocently stumbled on a porn site that opened 6 new windows for every 1 you closed - blind panic had me diving for the power socket.

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