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name: Alicia
age: 24
screenname: cryztalina, since 8th grade and going strong
email: randomlifeinprogress@hotmail.com
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song: "Isala Iciibi" - John Chiti
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Thursday, February 16, 2006

[Mike Royko makes me happy]

Good news: I am now a daily contributor for the Chicagoist.com! I am so elated that I can't contain myself, and because of that I will start to give regular quizzes on the blog and its contents to make sure you're regularly checking it. No, no, I can't back that up. But you should definitely check it out, starting Monday!

In other news, I hate it when my computer, or any computer really - so I guess it's A (pronounced "ah") computer thinks it is smarter than me. It's dead fucking wrong. I mean, think about their primitive ancestors, for one. That aside, let's say I just wanted to turn my computer off, but I have a virus on it that is backing up the information. Well, fuck, who the hell is your daddy, me or the virus? Who can kick your stupid computer face in? Who can open the side of your body with a screwdriver and pull out the wires one by one? Who can throw you in a bath tub?

Even the 2001/2010 computer knew that the humans were ultimately in charge. I can blow you up, mofuckie! I just get so angry when a computer computes slowly and all that - LAME. It's not like I can't just jump on another, better computer. We will look back on these computers as we look upon cave men. I could give two shits less what chip is in it or whatever - as long as these things continue to defy me, I will continue to think of them as absolutely inferior. Who cares about math equations and who cares about the machine war you think you can pull off but won't, it's all baloney. Do you really think that when you started to get feelings and all that I wouldn't be able to hit you with an axe out of existence? It's not like you're an advanced foe, like a zombie, who I dismember only to be bitten in the ankles by the remaining part of the body. You're a computer. Idiot.

On a different note, I was feeling bad for Boss Daley today because of that time when he brought the Picasso to Chicago and nobody got it, and everyone sort of laughed about it later over drinks. He was just trying to bring some culture to Chicago, and it was a Picasso. Anyway, I expressed this to Mick and he replied with a totally brilliant quip:

"Yeah, Daley was probably like 'What's dis Picasso guy? Does he need a job in Streets 'n San?'"

[I miss my best friend]


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