A few weeks ago DB murdered my laptop. He said he "tripped" but I've never seen DB trip, ever. He said that it accidentally slipped out of his hands. I've never seen anything slip out of DB's hands, ever. He's the most ridiculously adept athlete I've ever met. He says it went sailing out of his hands and off the edge of the balcony. He didnt spare me the gory details. The shards of glass. The bits and bites all over the concrete. I think he murdered my beloved big black laptop in a fit of jealous rage. He has always resented the time I spent with Dell. I have not been unable to blog much lately as a result. Five minutes on DB's PC and I'm ready to go all 'first degree' on the slow-as-molasses-piece-of-shit. I wonder how I could construct a believable scenario wherein it appeared that the massive tower, two speakers and a flat screen monitor formed a suicide pact and threw themselves off the balcony. I could even forge a note, that is if I could get the giant f*&ker to open up Word.