What the Unholy Hell is Up With That, Computer?

Earlier today I sent Brother Eric a text that consisted solely of the word “Wibble.”

Why wibble?  Why not?  It amuses me, that word.  And what amuses Cullen must be done.  You can see that, right?

His response was, “Wait, what?’

My reply?  “Wibble, wobble, wubble, wabble.”

Which I regret.  I should have had a “webble” in there to complete the set.  Dunno what I was thinking.

Once this was sent, I expected that Eric would reply with a “What the f***” or some equally appropriate swear.  He was in the Army, after all.  With this in mind, I handed the cell phone over to Mom.  Thus odds were good that she would read his message and thus be the person sweared at.

I know.  Diabolical.

Sadly… or, rather, sadly for me, which is the important part, Eric never replied to the second message.  Mom suggested that, y’know, he was at work and probably didn’t have time for nonsense.  Which was true, and had I remembered the time I might have waited an hour or so to send “wibble” to him.  Maybe.  I dunno.  I fear I might possibly kinda sort of slight lean towards the general likely locality of maybe being an asshalf.  A couple more box tops and I’ll might get a “hole”.  Or get put in one, as the case may be.

Here’s the thing.  Eric recently told me he doesn’t hold grudges, which means, by association, that he doesn’t believe in revenge.  Now I’ve never needed a reason to be a jerk; I am the Big Brother and that is all the license I need.  But telling me that is like a challenge.  It’s like, see how much Eric can take before he snaps.

Maybe he won’t ever snap.  Maybe he’ll take this with a warm and open heart.  Who knows?

But if he does, if he goes crazy and piledrivers me into the molten core of the Earth, I won’t have anyone to blame except videogames.

Honest.  Some of those things are awful.  He’s played Beyond the Beyond, after all, and there’s no telling what kind of harm has been done to his psyche.

What?  You didn’t honestly expect me to take the blame for him piledriving me into the molten core of the earth, did you?  I mean, really.

Oh.  What does this have to do with the title?  Right, right.

Anyway.  I get home later and open up my files.  Gonna work on my fantasy novel, don’t cha know.  Only… the custom dictionary I use for it?  Gone.  At least one other custom dictionary’s gone too.


I don’t know why.

Maybe this is my computer’s way of texting “wibble” at me.


Cause, y’know, the only word prosessing program I like is Word.

and i can’t afford that right now

but one day… wham!  molten core of the earth with that program

for realzees


2 Replies to “What the Unholy Hell is Up With That, Computer?”

  1. I don’t hold grudges… but that doesn’t mean I don’t do revenge. I just do it without rancor.

    What is it the Spanish say about revenge?

    I wasn’t at work. I had Friday off… it was Good Friday, which Prescott College apparently celebrates as – I’m not making this up – Intercultural Day.

    Now, this isn’t my blog, so I’m not going to go into a 1,000 word rant about it, but… Intercultural Day? Really?

    In any case, I wasn’t at work, and I wasn’t angry or anything… I just couldn’t think of anything suitably random to say in response. I thought about texting back “Blubber! See? I can do it too.” But I only came up with that an hour or so later after the confusion wore off.

    1. Isn’t Good Friday Passover, too? Wouldn’t… ugh… Intercultural Day… be sort of covering both celebrations at once?

      Incidentally, just sending “Blubber” back alone as an answer to “Wibble” might have killed me. I know I laughed just seeing it here…

      Yes. I am that strange.

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