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The wee Fiona just up-ended a beer into my laptop. I think I got it all cleaned up before things went kablooey, if they even actually do that and it's not just some fancy Hollywood special effect that has been fooling us all these years.
Say, remember when Edgar the computer fell in love with Virginia Madsen and wrote Giorgio Moroder / Jeff Lynne / Culture Club songs and then blew up so Virginny could be with the man she loved?
Now there's a movie that time forgot.
Anyway, what's even worse is when the aforementioned laptop belongs to your employer. Whoops!
