Book Rewrite Restarted; Microsoft Vista Sucks.


So. I finally got back to my rewriting chores today and the first 25% is in the books. That’s the good news. The bad news is that my wonderful Windows Vista operating system has decided that it will not allow me to copy from the old document and paste to my rewritten file.

Vista sucks!

I spent the better part of two hours attempting a fix. Open and close docs, start and restart the computer, contact Microsoft central to be abused by those rat fuckers.

Would somebody please tell the people working computer help lines that if I knew what was going on with my computer, I could fix my own fucking problems problems.

It’s like with my business and customer service. You call out to Mooners Compost Plant with questions, we assume from a starting point that you know nothing about compost, and work from there.

If you don’t know what compost is or what it does, we’ll give you as much education as you need.

That isn’t what typically happens with computer service though. Especially on the phone or I-net service. Its like they hire sadist personalities to work the phones and then lock them in a room, deprive them of light and food. Put shock collars on them and provide a jolt whenever they are helpful or nice.

I say it’s just another conspiracy designed to get us to buy new hardware. Frustrate the ever-loving shit out of you to where you’ll buy a new one just to stop the pain.

Actually, that’s not a bad business model.

If you’re a fucking right-wing religious Republican fuckball!

Gram made me a special potion to help me cope. “I call this un Mooner needs to pull his head outta his ass. I fortify tha magic mushroom tea with a pinch a persimmon juice, elder wood bark an nanny goat piss.”

“Nanny goat piss?” I exclaimed. “Why nanny goat piss?”

“Couldn’t catch tha billy goat.”

The potion didn’t get my computer fixed, but I don’t really give a shit. I grabbed my beer wagon and dragged Rush Limbaugh and Rick Perry out of my closet and took them for a walk. We walked all the way to the lake and sat for awhile drinking beer. Squirt’s been keeping me company and interpreting for me, so she went along.

“Ich denke, dass Rick Perry est dans l”amour mitt Rush Limbaugh, Mooner.”

I answered, “Yea, I agree with you Squirt. It seems that my pet ostrich is quite smitten with my pig.”

“And something else, bwana Mooner. Su ostrich es muy fucking amusant.”

She and I watched a tipsy Rick Perry attempting to nuzzle Rush Limbaugh as Rushie chased a bottle of cold Carta Blanca beer across the grass. “He gets a couple snorts in him and he can’t hold his head up. He’s a funny bird alright.”

I need to decide what I’m having for dinner tonight because I’m on liquids Tuesday in preparation for my next visit to the surgery center Wednesday morning.


Manana, y’all.

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