Okay, computer, I'm ready to type. Let's start with my name. D - I -
Where did this kid come from? I have computer chips designed by geniuses an she's spelling her name with one finger. What's the human mind coming to? I bet I could access a million bytes of information in the time it takes to spell her name. If all humans are this way I'm glad I'm a computer.
I'm done typing. Now, where is that darn spell check? I know there's one somewhere. I'll try looking under "help."
I swear she's going to wear out my help. I think I've told her where the spell check is just about every time she plops herself down in front of me. Try looking under "edit," Swifty. It's always there, it's not like it moves as soon as you shut me off. It's a good thing for her I can help her with some of her problems.
Oh, there it is! I think it moves every time I try to find it. Okay, now I want to print a copy. Now I need to print. Print... Hmmm...
Here, I'll be merciful. Here's your stupid paper. A half of a page? What kind of moron takes an hour to write a half of a page?! You, I guess. You know, they invented computers simple enough for people like you, but they've since been mummified in the back of some storage room in the basement of an abandoned warehouse in Mississippi.
Well, nighty, night computer. Thanks for your help. See you tomorrow.
I think I'm getting debugged tomorrow.
written circa 1995 by Diana Lee
