Upon hearing of Michael Jackson's death I rushed downstairs to my computer in order to investigate the news and most likely post a comment on how the self-proclaimed "King of Pop" was no "King" (Le Roi de pop est mort--que l'enfer!, vive Elvis, le Roi authentique!)
Pardon my semi-literate (at best) French. Unless you're complaining because you are French, in which case va te faire mettre (pardon my French).
I pressed the button, but my computer declined to power up. I checked all the cables, but could identify no problem; so I took it to my personal geek squad, the chemical-engineer/technological savant, Drew, hoping that it was nothing more than a failed power supply (which is what I suspected/hoped but had no way myself to confirm).
As Drew tinkered around, we discussed a myriad of comments, from his views on the recent Battlestar Galactica series to the hazards of some form of chromium (hey, he's the chemical engineer, so that's the best that you'll get from me).
Sure enough, the power supply was shot, so I had to order a new one and wait. In the time between then and just a few hours ago, I haven't been able to blog or even check my email. I bristled over how dependent I have become on this machine and its connection to the world wide web (I only just found out that Billy Mays is dead!--God, I hope this doesn't mean more from the ShamWow DB).
Well, the new power supply arrived earlier this afternoon, and after a bit of confusion with some of the connections, I called Drew. By the time he arrived at my house, I'd figured out the problem, but it was a good thing that he dropped by, for I hadn't noticed that in my haste to get things up and going I hadn't reconnected the main hard drive and a fan.
Thanks to Drew, I'm back in business.
Thanks Drew.
Some day, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, consider this justice a gift...
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