I use my laptop for all writing. Previously, I always used a desktop. The desktops cool, but it's always possessed by some virus or another. Over the years, I've been able to handle and successfully rid my desktop of all virus issues without having to ever buy any software...but it was never a sure thing (especially since it literally rebelled against me if I used any browser besides internet explorer.)
A couple weeks ago, my desktop was hit so hard with a virus, that it was literally unusable. I would run various system recoveries but even then the virus persisted. What was particularly daunting was that my previous laptop went completely fubar with a hardware issue back in November and I luckily was able to transfer all my writing data to the desktop via my external HD...now that I successfully had to boot my desktop all the way back to day 1, I find myself curious about the integrity of my external or any of the (no less than 3) flash drives I use to back up ALL of my writing.
I do figure however, that anything written by me that isn't in some form of hard copy will always run the inherent risk of being lost for all eternity in the event of multiple catastrophic errors on my end. But what better way to back up my work than to put every damn thing on this blog?
.........
Anyway, this particular tale star three people I knew in college. No, their drug use is not exaggerated...mostly. One more thing was that they were pretty dumb...like they would always get pissed at me for using words that were too big for them to comprehend (anything with more than 3 syllables)
...and again, this is me trying to break up the pace of constant apocalypses...also stalling for time to write, unless any of the other authors decide to ya know, show up...
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[Where The Hell Were You?]
“This is taking too long.” Steve said as he entered and
dropped his bag on the ground. “She’ll be back soon.” Dan said. Steve had been
at work all day. During work he realized he forgot something when he moved in
with Dan from his old apartment. Dan was being lazy, so he sent Brittany to get
Steve’s stuff instead. That was four hours ago.
“How much
weed was it, anyway?” Dan asked. “All of it.” Steve replied.
“How could
you forget something so important?”
“We’ve
already had this conversation.”
“Still…”
“Look, you
said Brittany had this. So where is she?”
“You think
the cops found it?”
Steve didn’t
respond, instead him and Dan grabbed their coats and made their way to Steve’s
old apartment. When Steve moved out, a friend of his, Josh, moved in, so it
wouldn’t be any intrusion for Dan and Steve to barge right in. The whole way
over Steve and Dan argued over whose fault it was for this situation. “Did you
leave anything else there?” Dan asked. “Just an outdated word-of-the-day
calendar I didn’t want.”
When they
arrived to outside the apartment, they saw Brittany creep out the front door. “What
the fuck?!” Steve immediately shouted. Brittany looked up at Steve and Dan with
bloodshot eyes. “Uh-oh.” Dan said before snickering. “What the fuck?!” Steve
repeated “Why did you take so long?” Brittany laughed a little before finally
talking.
“The sweet
plethora quickly probed my flaccid phantasm.” Steve stared at Dan who returned
the same quizzical look. Steve grabbed Brittany by her shoulders and asked “What?”
Brittany laughed again and said “The sweet plethora quickly probed my flaccid
phantasm.”
“I think I
know where your weed went.” Dan said as Steve bit his lip and made his way up
the stairs. Dan followed, dragging Brittany behind him. Steve all but kicked
down the door and saw Josh sitting in the middle of the floor. “Josh…” Steve
started but Josh held his hand in the air for Steve to be silent.
“A bunch of
us were here for a house warming party, then Brittany showed up. We saw her
remove a floorboard in the bedroom and pull out all that weed. Everyone else
convinced her to share the weed and the next thing we know, it’s all gone.”
Steve balled up his fists. “How much did you smoke, Josh?” Josh shook his head.
“None, but everyone else smoked it, and let me tell you, there was a lot.”
Dan was now
laughing hysterically at how all of Steve’s weed was gone. “Where are they now?”
Steve asked. Josh motioned to the bedroom “I gave them some chocolate and they’ve
been staying entertained by your calendar.” Steve made for the bedroom to find
several people laying about, the smell of weed still thick in the air, everyone
high as kites. He saw his calendar in the middle of the room, the plastic case
was cracked and pages laid strewn everywhere.
“You guys
are bastards.” Steve yelled. “Hey, dude.” One of them spoke “Don’t start a
quarrel. We’re trying to enjoy ourselves.” Another one spoke “Yeah, you’ll give
us away to the fuzz, then they’ll discover our clandestine activity.” One more
guy joined in “This guy is really irking my vibe. Kick him out.”
“You guys
smoked all my weed!” Steve shouted over the brouhaha of high people talking. “That
weed was for everyone. Its selfish to think its all yours.” someone said. “Fuck
you! Do you know how much that weed cost me? Not to mention that I didn’t get
any of it! I call shenanigans on you fuckers!”
“Watch your
bad language!” someone said from the floor “Don’t make us ostracize you from
this place of happiness.” Steve walked up and grabbed his broken calendar. “Fuck
you and your big words!” he yelled as he walked out of the room.
Dan had
meanwhile been talking to Josh. “What does “sweet plethora quickly probed my
flaccid phantasm” mean?” Josh suppressed a laugh. “Uh…lets just say she got
into a squelch with a couple guys after getting high.” Dan and Steve’s eyes
almost bugged out. “Haha! That means we had-” Brittany said before Steve cut
her off and stormed back into the bedroom, already pissed about the weed, but
now fueled by a more noble reason to beat the ever living snot out of everyone
in the room.
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