movies

Mac Corruption

It turns out the Macbook that came back to us was not the same Macbook that left us. It looked the same and had the same serial number. And yet, we were informed by the person at the Genius Bar of the Kenwood Apple Store, it was corrupted. (This may or may not have been the result of  the former “owner” hiding it in the trash can when informed the police were coming to her house with a warrant.) Two hours later, it was no longer corrupted, but it was also no longer the same computer. It was a blank slate. It had been brainwashed.

So tonight we begin the mammoth task of updating our iTunes library (thank you, back-up!), as well as restoring all the charming quirks, widgets and bookmarks that said, in small, inimitable ways, “This computer is ours, and if you stole it then shame on you but please for the love of all things holy don’t put it in the trash can again.”

In the meantime, while this very old but trusty Dell PC has served us well for the past six months, we’re going to pull an Office Space on it.

What do you mean, ‘What’s the bat for?’ We always bring baseball bats to a picnic. Chill, PC.

Psych! The bat is divine retribution for all those Internet Explorer error messages! Every! Last! One!

AND THIS IS FOR NOT STANDING UP TO THAT SMUG MAC KID!

That was cleansing.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Mac Corruption

  1. Other Collegian editors and I used to have long, lovingly detailed conversations about pulling an Office Space on the printer in the Tower. I can’t for the life of me remember if that was during your tenure or not. I know the conversations were passionate, though interspersed with my attempts to sweet-talk the Stupid Piece of Crap. (I never called it that to its face.) Sometimes I would even lay hands on it, trying to get it to print One Last Page. Out of its earshot, we used to talk about shoving it through the window and watching it fall … fall … fall … and hit the ground.

    Of course, maybe conversations like those were what kept us up all night.

  2. Oh I remember those conversations quite well. I fantasized longingly about all the ways I could put that printer out of its misery. And mine. Just thinking about it again makes my blood boil. I need to go destroy something.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s