Don't Try This at Home

So last Saturday night, appropos of nothing (I was bored and hungry, what the hell), I decided to see me some celebrity wang. You know, kick it off with Ewan McGregor, get a taste of Viggo Mortenson, maybe a shot or two of Daniel Radcliffe in Equus. So far, so good. Then I was scrolling through the latest on PerezHilton.com and saw some pics of Zack Efron, of whom Mr. Hilton seemed to be enamored.

Shockingly, I haven't seen High School Musical so I didn't know who the hell this Zack was, but he had the requisite dark hair/light eyes combo that sets my lizard brain a thumpin, so I innocently googled his dick.

Before I could say, "Nice one," my computer had been infested with the latest high-tech worm, virus, whatever they call it, and after a veritable Fourth of July fireworks display of pop-ups, my computer ground to a huffing, puffing death.

What follows can only be called computis interruptus, a series of attempts to turn off, restart, scan for viruses, etc etc etc., all the friggin night long. Finally, by church-going time on Sunday, my beloved PC coughed, said, "I'm dumping all memory now," and joined HAL in the cyberinfinite. Glug glug glug.

Crap.

I turned off my cable a month ago, I'm staying up late now so my sleep is more "hygenic," I'm not eating very much, my federal agency is off-line pending a multi-billion-dollar law suit so I can't slake my thirst at work, and there's only so much brushing my cat can take - I NEED THE INTERNET! I NEED MY PC! MUST HAVE! MUST HAVE!

Luckily for me, my friend Ande did some major Craig's List scanning today and found me a super bargain - well, I hope it turns out to be a bargain when all is said and done. The good news is, I'm back up and running, with a much faster, brand new PC some IT guy just sold me for three hundred can't-really-afford-it bucks.

Please, dear CyberGod, I've learned my lesson: celebrity schlong will do you wrong.