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Damn, how much do I hate computers?

Let me count the ways,

Hell, better to have foreplay,

With a pig,

Or dance a jig,

With a twig,

Than to “play” with these electronic whirligigs.

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The more I use them,

The more my hem,

Loses its sew,

Or better yet, the more my brain becomes swiss cheese,

Forcing me to yet a higher form of torture, oh please!

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The computer, while acting sometimes like a love-starved woman lover,

From the Klon“dyke”,

Is sometimes, in its demeanor almost childlike,

But less like a tyke,

And more godlike than I would appreciate,

To be honest, these things smell more of defecating poop,

And work as if they are in a psych group,

Killing time till the time is up & can be shut down,

Till the next time “we” turn them back on,

But be forewarned,

He/She who takes on this, oh so gruesome task,

Will never in the sunlight on a soft cloud, bask.

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Have I made clear my fear?

And in this I am sincere,

Of computers remember to veer,

And steer around them as fast as your reindeer will shear this sphere…

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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

(add in expletives here…all those curse words I swore I wouldn’t say)

(ed)