chou chope

Marquis de Zonk

The term sadism derived from his name. Makes sense to me, and you, mon cherie?

Of course I'm speaking of the ever vile, yet always ambiguous Zonquero. Just a fortnight ago I was speaking to him about my computer issues. You know, darlings, I am fraught with computer issues. I don't fucking get it. I only use the stupid thing to write email, not exactly multi media techno masterpieces, ya know? Still, it's only a year old and it seizes up as often as Fred Sanford.

I'd rather call RSM. Not only is he technologically savvy, he is also easy to imagine all pected out in a pair of camo pants, maybe waxing my wood floors...
Nasty boy, he is just as sick as Zonker when it comes to teasing me. I'd like to teach him a lesson or two about cleaning, but first, push ups. Yeah, push ups...

But, I don't call RSM with my goofy seizure issues. Which IS odd considering he has a lot of experience in the health and tech services. Ahhhhh, service men. Still, he's got a BAD case of mac envy. One that I can't cure with my small insignificant garage-built-by-stoners-in-Austin, fuctard class-action sued Dell piece of SHIT!! Agh. Sorry, peeps. To say I'm frustrated would be a wee bit understated.

By the way, is it as confusing to read this as it is to write? Just wondering.

So I'm on the phone with Zonk. And I'm missing you all so, I can't stand it. A whole weekend with no children, I can laze around like the champions. But it's seizureville in casa de chou, again. Post something? Or, perhaps throw this fucking box through the front window, I just don't know...

I call Zonk. Mistake, perhaps, at least sexsurely speaking. That retard starts going on and on and on about his small insignificant hard drive. And something else about how it never felt good enough or big enough when he was out surfing. It just made him feel, well, like he didn't measure up, frankly.

I mean, look around you. There are a lot of much, much bigger blodgers out there. Zonk definitely had a point.

Still, typical of fucking men, I call him with a problem, my problem, and he found a way to make it all about him! Dude, I needed help. This wasn't supposed to be all about you and your tiny insignificant & impotent hard drive. HOLY SHEESH!! I suprise myself, at my age, with a third a century under my belt, and I never saw that coming. For shame, chou, really, shame on me.

So where was I? Zonk is going on and on and on (you think I'm kidding) about his weak lil hard drive and telling me they have these stores now where they have all kinds of external devices you can buy. This solved Zonk's sociointranet woes, because he found some kind of bionic hard drive apparatus that when he blodges with it, gives him great satisfaction. Apparently, it's worked and has led all of us to believe that Zonk is just plugging away out there, not a care in the world. Not so, my precious peep eyes, not so.

Yikes. Let me tell you, it was obvious that I struck a nerve with the Marquis de Zonk. I think I fell asleep a couple of times listening to him talk about how he was super zonk thanks to that device. That's all I remember, I said night night. Passed out and when I woke up I found this in my inbox:

zonker hide details Apr 13 (2 days ago)
to chouchope@gmail.com
date Apr 13, 2007 10:34 PM
subject External Hard Drives
signed-by yahoo.com
mailed-by yahoo.com

Great big throbbing hard drives...
http://www.newegg.com/Product/ProductList.aspx?Submit=ENE&N=2010150414&bop=And&Order=RATING

See. You all think I'm the perv, but you don't see what goes on between the HTML sheets. It's hard out here for a mommy. And the blown eyeds? They are a seriously unrelenting and resourceful bunch.

Ciao, Bellas. See ya round the sphere!

Posted by shoe at April 15, 2007 10:42 AM | TrackBack