My NEW laptop, which I received the grand total of ONE WEEK AGO, decided to contract a virus from my freaking IPOD. HOW DOES AN IPOD SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATE VIRUSES?! .....
Improbable. Nevertheless, the virus was apparently both high-risk and new(ly manufactured by Norton) and decided to rape my NEW laptop. Like, graphic, brutal prison gangrape. After panicking for a few days (;_; NO YAOI! NO MANGA! NO DRAWING!) and snarling at Norton "Antivirus" which was as useless as my seminar essays (because apparently they only do ODD numbered courses in the fall sem, and 66% of my choices were...neither odd, nor prime), I decided I had no choice but to lug my victimized slave to Best Buy. Having spent $300 dollars assuring that, should I choose to run over laughing it insanely in a hummer (hypothetically speaking), I would not regret it two seconds later (at least for the next three years), I promptly discovered that my warranty covered only HARDWARE.
I don't drink alcohol, I don't do pot, I don't whore myself to starbucks...why would my hardware ever suffer? And then the BB Geek Squad dude (who was actually quite cute, but I was still fuming at the time and didn't notice), with a bored how-stupid-are-you look on his (sort of cute) face, smeared his fingerprints all over my shiny NEW laptop while telling me that he couldn't touch the software unless I dished out $200.
Well, mea culpa, I'm BROKE. I have no relation to Bill and/or Melinda Gates, nor to any rich Chinese Communist Party Leader, nor am I married to Kubo Tite (who I'm not sure is rich....he looks really starved, maybe he's poor -_-;;). After inventing creative expletives mentally for a while, I was forced to hand it over ;_; to save the life of my NEW laptop. Because apparently, exchanging is twenty-five-fucking-percent. Even in yaoiland or my numerically challenged imagination, 25% of the obscene amount of money my NEW laptop cost is still > than $200.
NORTON DELENDA EST. I piss in the milk of thy nonexistent mother and thy alleged antivirus. I...do bad things....to nine generations of your edition. YOU SHALL NEVER ESCAPE MY WRATH!!! *cough* And my fudgy mutilation of Elyssa's curse, which I can't remember: ON...SHARP ROCKS YOU SHALL DRAIN THE CUP OF PUNISHMENT WITH MY NAME FOREVER IN YOUR CODE; I WILL FOLLOW YOU WITH THE FIRES OF HELL WHEN I AM FAR AWAY; WHEN DEATH SHALL HAVE SEVERED YOUR (NONEXISTENT) SOUL AND PROGRAMMING, MY SHADE SHALL HAUNT YOU EVERYWHERE. YOU SHALL SUFFER, WRETCH. I SHALL HEAR IT - THE NEWS SHALL REACH ME AMONG THE...GLEEFUL.
Argh, whatever. The first thing I did when I got it back was catch up on D.Gray-man (Tiki Mick is so freaking hot! He makes my heart whimper....I kinda like him as an uke though, since he's so slender and metrosexual, so now I have to find a seme, and not Mr. Sweet Tooth or Fatty).
To make myself feel better, I randomly drabbled what started out as an original sketch, but ending up looking rather like Allen Walker in gay clothes with no widow's peak. Oh well, at least I can post it in a dgm comm now.
WHY DOES MY LINEART SUXXOR LIKE HELL. Well, that's what happens when I draw on tablet and don't spend more than five minutes, but I'm too damn lazy to pick up a pencil. And yes, his arm is resting in thin air....on a random cloud. >< I didn't exactly plan this pic...I just scribbled and slapped on color. Yep, I'm brilliant.
I'm going to have to spend some time reading stuff...like college mail and everything I was supposed to know already. So I'll be a terrible, unethical poster. I'm reading Crime and Punishment, but the translation's on crack, and my hands desire to strangle Raskolnikov over and over again because he's so DAMN STUPID. Rodia started out okay (I got really excited when Dostoevsky said he was "handsome"...my yaoi senses started tingling *facepalm*) ; then apparently the ax took the majority of his brain cells. But then tall, handsome, semelike Razumikhin came along, and my yaoi senses went CRAZY. Like, they started PARTYING. I mean, the obvious feelings he has for Rodia is *GUH*. *dies* RazuRaskol slays me. I am so wrong. *sweatdrop* My glasses are GAY-TINTED.
I'm also rereading For Whom the Bell Tolls, and one thought, out of all the lovely choppy sentences and random espanol words and some scenes of dead people dying, kept recurring to my free-tickets-to-yaoiland mind: Hemingway CAN'T WRITE PORN. It's clear (to my bishounen-infested, halfdead brain) that he's never had sex *coughwithawoman* before, because he's so vague (blahblah, yes i know, blahcensorshipblah) and keeps repeating himself in very broad, gaussian-blurred, airbrushed strokes. Most yaoi writers could write something steamier than that!
Anyways, Colbert x Tad/Paul Dinello 4ever. Because I'm on crack.
Spreading the (antinorton) love,