November 20, 2007

she's asking for it.

q. shenaynay

Be hereby warned that I have discovered the real identity of my laptop. She is not the friendly, well-meaning Darling Dell she has always pretended to be. She is actually Elvira the Dreaded Vampire Laptop, who drains the life out of everything in her path -- battery juice, incoming email, video feeds, precious time, my patience. Etc.

Elvira passed out cold this afternoon while filtering my email into folders. Really, there is no excuse. I recently gave her a juicy new battery, but Elvira, you see, is a glutton. She is also prone to hot flashes, wheezes loudly in the key of G, refuses to play nice with YouTube, and lately shows less and less interest in committing to a long-term relationship with Sir Internet.

Just now I got her revived, and the sassy thing presented me with all those emails... but they are blank. Empty. Drained dry. Tauntingly, mysteriously, annoyingly, blindingly dead white with nary a squiggle of font anywhere. No clue who sent them either.

(If you sent me something in the last 12 hours, just know I didn't get it.)

(And tell me this: if we can clone sheep and keep track of housepets and parolees by satellites floating around in space without a powercord dangling back down to planet Earth, why can't we keep a tiny computer alive longer than a few hours? Can it really be so hard for all the techy ubernerds out there to come up with a supermondomegajuicy laptop battery?)

Not only do I not like getting mail I didn't get, I also don't like sending mail that I don't send. You see what I mean. Elvira is getting more uppity by the day about when she feels like sending email for me. She keeps sticking her sassy little pop-up hand up in my face, saying, "Nope, sorry, can't be bothered, now is just not a good time for me. Off the clock, babe. Try me again later." But then the emails she neglects to send are nonetheless marked as sent in my outbox, so I don't know who got what. Or not.

Elvira dares to mock the Queen. Elvira is apparently ignorant of the historical significance of such Queenly phrases as "Off With Her Head!" and "Shoot The Messenger!" and "Posthaste!" and "Make It So!" (Oops, sorry, that was Captain Picard.)

Anyway. We are not amused. Envelopes and stamps and wax seals are looking better all the time. Elvira should be very afraid.


Androphenese said...

I think Elvira actually died months ago. what you have now is her ghost.

The Correspondent said...

I feel your pain. We experienced two computer meltdowns two years in a row and lost a ton of Valuable Stuff.

Dawn said...

Sorry about that, hon. I know why my battery is always dead. Lily has developed an affection for the laptop, and sneaks off into our bedroom, hides beside the bed, and turns it on.

Owl of the Desert said...

Ugh, yes, since I got my new battery, it only lasts about 30 minutes longer than my old battery. Now, my total time is up to about an hour and a half. Woop. De. Doo.

Perhaps Elvira could accidentally slip from your fingers about 14 flights up in a building, and fall to the ground into a million pieces?? (after retrieving all valuable information, of course)

Donna-Jean Breckenridge said...

You'd think she'd have respect for Her Majesty. The rest of us do! :-)

Dani said...

I'm hearing a Christmas present idea...

Mine is Pricillia, (little brother decided how it must be spelled) and she has had her harddrive replaced, and the screen changed twice. Has been provide with two different battery cords, and still the little vixin won't do pretty much anything I ask.

Aravis said...

I love this. A vampire laptop.

Cornflower and Triss: LOL LOL LOL