Oh, yes, gay sex. stinky pubes and hairy anuses chock full of bacteria. We're both filthy, filthy Mac users! We're so filthy that we use white computers. Filthy, filthy gay sex.
In fact, my PS2 and PS1 also work. So does my...NES...
Hehheehawhah. How many hours do you spend blowing into and reseating the cartridge before the game actually plays properly?
Oh, whoops, somebody's hand accidentally brushed against the console, causing garbled characters and blinking screens. Better start the game all over again...hufff....pufff.....huffffffff.......puffffffff.....FUCK!
Dammit, let's play monopoly instead...because emulators don't count.
Don't get me wrong, NES is my first (and still only) love, but the bitch has aged terribly.
I will listen now. After your father's murder, you were orphaned. You were ten years old. You went to live with cousins on a sheep and horse ranch in Montana. And...?
Clarice Starling: [tears begin forming in her eyes] And one morning, I just ran away.
Hannibal Lecter: No "just", Clarice...Then something woke you, didn't it? Was it a dream? What was it?
Clarice Starling: I heard a strange noise.
Hannibal Lecter: What was it?
Clarice Starling: It was... screaming. Some kind of screaming, like a child's voice.
Hannibal Lecter: What did you do?
Clarice Starling: The lambs were screaming.
Hannibal Lecter: They were slaughtering the spring lambs, and you ran away?
Clarice Starling: No. First I tried to free them. I... I opened the gate to their pen, but they wouldn't run. They just stood there, confused. They wouldn't run.
Hannibal Lecter: But you could and you did, didn't you?
Clarice Starling: Yes. I took one lamb, and I ran away as fast as I could...
Hannibal Lecter: What became of your lamb, Clarice?
Clarice Starling: They killed him.
Ethanol-fueled: They killed the lamb because those dumb, dumb motherfuckers just stand there, with glassy eyes, readily accepting the fate shoved up their asses because they are too weak to control their destinies.
C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas l'Informatique. -- Bosquet [on seeing the IBM 4341]