I gave my girlfriend a computer virus. I haven't had one myself in years upon years despite refusing to pay for anything resembling protective software, so needless to say I was caught by surprise when I got nailed, simply by loading a site that Google Images told me had a 'YO DAWG I HERD YOU LIKE CARS...' pic. I insist on showing her these things, despite the fact that her most common response reminds me of a 7 year old opening socks and underwear on Christmas morning. It's a nice grounding, I think. A reminder that the real world has no time for the kind of shit that I make time for even during an 80 hour work week.
Anyway, I got her a virus for Christmas. So I traded laptops with her, so that she could have one that worked in her apartment while I tried to make better that which I had made worse. And then I kinda forgot about it, because ol' Vundo beat my ass badly on my first few half-hearted tries, and I had Left 4 Dead to play.
Then there was a 1929-themed New Year's Eve party, which billed itself as a real production with a password to get in ("Irrational Exuberance," how clever) that they never even asked for, because the real password was a cover charge. I took some more awful pictures there that I didn't even try to make a nice face in, and then I made a resolution not to do that anymore. And then I made another resolution not to let things sit around undone forever, even if it means I don't get to play video games every time I want to. Also I got a new iPod that can scrobble what it plays and I can't really use it to do so until I get my MacBook back, which lit a fire under my ass.
So tonight I spent all night manually digging a trojan out of my girlfriend's registry. And I guess I should wait until the full scan that's running right now comes back clean before I start flexing all over the web, but it wasn't a resolution this year not to brag about things without any reasonable justification. So yeah, I did it. I'm a genius. Who smiles in pictures, even. For the time being.
