Advanced Procrastination: going through one's filing cabinet

[thewhitelily]

It occurs to me that I've probably had more poetry written for me than most other girls around. In the first couple of years of our relationship, Hubby felt that the appropriate compensation for having to spend more than twenty-four or so hours out of email contact was a poem - sometimes more than one - which sounds sickeningly romantic until one realises the exact nature of these poems.

I've kept them all, of course, and while procrastinating today, I came across the whole collection. Here's one that I consider possibly one of the most romantic of them - and that mainly because it was a takeoff of a top forty song of the time.

Win2K Box (to the tune of Wheatus's Teenage Dirtbag)

Her name is Novell,
I have bad dreams about
Her ASCII-based shell,
Though my graphics take half an hour;
Pings she rejects
She runs IPX,
So she doesn't know who I am.
And she doesn't give a damn about me...

Chorus:
'Cause I'm just a Win2K box, baby.
Yeah I'm just a Win2K box, baby.
Talk TCP/IP now, baby, with me.

Her boyfriend's a Mac.
He always runs in schools
And he'd simply hack
My arse if he had the tools;
One bad memory block
And he'll crash like a rock.
But he doesn't know who I am.
And he doesn't give a damn about me...

(Chorus)

Oh yeah,
2000...
No, she doesn't know what she's missing.

My NIC's cold.
My segment is silent, lonely.
Lo and behold,
She sends a packet to me;
This must be fake,
Some guy running Quake.
How does she know who I am?
And why does she give a damn about...

I've got an upgrade to Win2000, baby.
Join my domain now, don't say maybe.
I'm just a Win2K box, baby, like you...

(Chorus)


*brain implodes* To all of you who doubted my previous tale of Hubby's extreme geekhood: the proof is in the poetry.

As far as my reinstall goes... gaaargh, it doesn't. It turns out it wasn't a problem with the installation being screwed up at all. (Haha! Windows is VINDICATED!!) It's just that my hard drive's bad in a number of places, and has been getting slowly worse and worse. Since I hadn't run scandisk, like I should have, we only discovered halfway through reformatting, and now I have to wait for my replacement hard drive to arrive in the mail before getting my machine back again. *shakes fist*

Still... the end is in sight. In the meantime my laptop is completely out of commission. Fortunately, I've managed to resurrect my old laptop, so... I'm still around. If slightly more slowly.

[/procrastination over actually writing fic *shakes fist at the Smallville Scene which is Still Not Behaving*]

Comments

[thesurvivalist.livejournal.com]

I just LOLed for about five minutes straight? Your boyfriend was a Mac? Was your husband serious when he wrote this?

Verdict: keeper, merely for the lulz.

[thewhitelily]

Actually... I grew up using a Mac. It had Died the Final And Lasting Death not long before he wrote this, and he'd been helping me with with the purchase and setup of my family's Very First Windows Machine. So... it is kind of appropriate, in a way. :)

But no, he wasn't really serious. ;) It was just meant to be an amusing-and-somewhat-appropriate-rewrite of a song we both liked.

Verdict: Mintage. *grin*

[humble-mosquito.livejournal.com]

Now, just to check: I am *allowed* laugh hysterically at this, aren't I?

[thewhitelily]

Er... yes. Go ahead. :)

[dim-aldebaran.livejournal.com]

*dies laughing*

If I ever manage to get a boyfriend, he had better write poetry like that.

Or write like Keats. One of the two. :D

[thewhitelily]

Ooops! Just realised I never replied to this. ;)

And I'm sure your boyfriend will write like Keats. It's inevitable. :D

[peterchayward.livejournal.com]

Haha, that's truly fantastic.

[thewhitelily]

*grin* Thanks.