I had been waiting a week to transfer a bunch of videos off my camera onto my computer. Videos of Gus and Patrick dancing in their room to the songs from High School Musical. Videos of my talented boys singing and shaking their hips. Videos that I WILL NEVER SEE AGAIN because my laptop decided that it would be the first computer in the history of God's RAM-lined earth to take a woman at her word when she said she wanted to Delete All.
Did the video of me reading a bed time story to Patrick in my creepy Nice-Mommy voice get deleted? NO. It did not. My Dell Packrat 1520 chose to save that unique horror for all posterity, regardless of my efforts to erase all traces of it:
--ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE THIS FILE?
--Yes.
--ARE YOU SURE?
--Yes!
--ARE YOU SURE???
--Yes!! Yes!! Yes!!
--No. Seriously.
--YES, YOU ASS$%^#@ PIECE OF %#&^%$ MACHINE, I'M AS SURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
--YOU MEAN "PURE" AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
--I hate you.
--You sound emotional tonight. How about I just save a copy in archives?
Did the video of me reading a bed time story to Patrick in my creepy Nice-Mommy voice get deleted? NO. It did not. My Dell Packrat 1520 chose to save that unique horror for all posterity, regardless of my efforts to erase all traces of it:
--ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE THIS FILE?
--Yes.
--ARE YOU SURE?
--Yes!
--ARE YOU SURE???
--Yes!! Yes!! Yes!!
--No. Seriously.
--YES, YOU ASS$%^#@ PIECE OF %#&^%$ MACHINE, I'M AS SURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
--YOU MEAN "PURE" AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
--I hate you.
--You sound emotional tonight. How about I just save a copy in archives?
RSS Feed
