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My Computer is dying. Temperature-wise it's claiming it's fine. But it keeps rebooting, locking up, and sometimes emitting a great burning-electronic-smell.

It's special.
So we're ordering parts for a new machine and I've had to move Karl's over to this spot where my monitors, keyboard and mouse are (though I have to call Karl to get the monitors both working. Not quite sure what I'm doing wrong there) so that I can finish the work I needed to have done last week. While I'm building a new machine, my first absolutely brand new machine ever, not a frankenbox or hand me down... well I might as well make it rude and obnoxious looking, right?

So that's what we're doing. heh.

Scott and Alicia were here this weekend and a lovely time was had. The full bar is a little less full and we no longer have wayward boxes of fireworks lurking around. Steph and Andre set them all of (except for the last of the screamers, some smoke bombs, those fucking strobe effect things, and some bottle rockets), with Steph finding her pyromanical 10 year old needing a fix after having laughted about Andre and Karl earlier in the night.
We've also discovered that cinnabon is the death cinnamon roll. Too damned sweet, too big, and they give you *extra icing* when you buy a box of the things. I cannot imagine a person who would need extra icing.

Karl called a character in The Suffering (video game, X Box) Exposition Jones and now I have the name stuck in my head. I wish I knew someone named Exposition Jones.


I need to go make coffee. I woke up feeling incredibly... doomy. Just waiting for the bad to happen. It's probably just left from realizing this weekend that my computer is probably well and truly dead this time and that I'm in the middle of a write up...dunno really.
I'll uncrank. I'll stop waiting for the sky to fall, I'll get my shit done, it will be fine.

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