A Love Letter

Dear Fred,

It's so hard to say this, buddy, but I think our time together has come to an end. Don't cry or I'll start. You were a good laptop, Fred.

Well actually, no, not really. Dude you popped your H key- the first time we met. Who does that Fred, who prematurely pops their H key- that's all I want to know?

But anyway. You were cheap Fred- sure refurbished from some computer geek somewhere in the Mid-west. A Dell D510, weighed a grand whopping 10 pounds. -or so it felt like it. Sure you shed parts like you were from Calcutta. Then you wouldn't take a charge- so I had to carry a mobile docking station everywhere I went. Then the right-click went. Yeah I had to super glue your g-key back on-twice. But Fred- you and me- we were buddies Fred.

After all, didn't I bling you out Fred? I added that awesome Alltop sticker and that Anarchy label and that kick ass bumper sticker I picked up at the Breathers book signing.

Zombies are People Too. 

It's ok, Fred. I don't mind that strangers give me the dog look all day long. Look at me, look at the sticker, and then look back at me with a confused look in their eye, their head tilted to the side. I did it for you Fred. For you.

Now you lay open, spread-eagled. Spewing parts. A motherboard here, a hard-drive there. Just hold on buddy, hold on for a little bit longer.

No, seriously, I mean it. Hold on. I can't afford a new laptop right now. Not even another cheap re-furb.

Noooooo Fred.

Goodbye tear

A Love Letter