RIP Fat Computer

Okay, here is the long-awaited obituary of my beloved fat PC, aptly named Fat Computer. It died a slow and pixelated death, I'm sad to say.

It lived a glorious three years (maybe four - I'm not too sure), half of which was spent pissing me off. Even though our relationship wasn't as good as it could've been in the end, I still appreciate the total indifference with which it took my endless insults. It was almost like it couldn't hear me.

So apparently in addition being fat, it was deaf, too. Immune to stimuli, e.g. pokes, slams, random combination of key-holding. Ctrl+Alt+Del never worked in the latter half of its life.

I admit, silent courage had coursed through your motherboard, but gosh, couldn't you just work properly so I could stop abusing you? On second thought, I take back the salute I was gonna compliment you with.

Your retaliations were, at best, immature and amateur. Sure, you pissed me off entirely just fine, but was that the best you could do? Huh? You should've at least threw up some sparks or fireworks so that I would be impressed and leave you alone. Instead, you just crashed and crashed without warning. Self-destruction just to get back at me? You lousy piece of plastic and metal chips.

I had no choice but to resort to verbal put-downs. You pushed me to it. Can't blame me if your cheap plastic covering wasn't thick enough to repel my justified insults. I'm sorry I stooped to your level, but you started it.

Okay, I gotta chill. You're dead already. Goodbye, Fatty, and normally I wouldn't say this because beauty isn't skin-deep (but in terms of technology, it totally is) - I hope you're skinny in your next life.
Rest in junkyard (garang guni) peace.

The end.