I have my 1965 Triumph Tr6sr running 4.00x18 and 3.50x19 tires. I was wondering about original air pressure in them, so I thought I'd go to my computer and look. I pushed the power button on, pushed in my start up floppy disc, then inserted my copy of Windews 2. After about three minutes and numerous buzzes, clicks, and even what sounded like a baby tiger growling from the depths of the hard drive, a little flying toaster (or a big crawling cockroach, not sure which with my 100x135 graphics program), slowly plodded across the screen and a blue message appeared that stated: "Reboot Windews." Oh boy, talk about throwing a spanner into the machinery!
So I took the computing machine out to an age appropriate 1954 Desoto sitting in those tall weeds over there, opened up the boot and tossed the mess into it. Then I went back to the house, grabbed an extension cord and a ladder and went back to the boot in the weeds. Plugging it in, I took the other end of the cord with me as I placed the ladder at the power pole down at the road and climbed up and spliced it in with my handy triple insulated knife and pliers. I went back to the boot of the Desoto, pushed the on button, reinstated the start up floppy disc and my copy of Windews 2, and got the same "Reboot Windews" message. Uh oh.........
Gathering up the mess out of the Desoto boot, I came to the realization that I was the one in error. The computer didn't mean a boot like a car has, it meant something with a little more kick. So this time I laced up the largest pair of steel toes boots I had, rounded up the ladder, and climbed up to the highest point on my two story roof I could find. I placed the computing machine right smack in the center of the roofpeak, lined up my aim with the neighbor's chimney on one side and his television antenna on the other as marker posts, then balancing quite deftly on a 30 degree pitch with my left foot, I took one last aim and launched my computing machine and it's Windews 2 into an operating program with my right foot.
The initial start up appeared to be working great, it flew in quite a lovely arc, that is until the law arrived. Yes, in my desire to have a functional computer by the end of the day, I worked at it a little too quickly and forgot to put in a provision for that one basic law- every action is accompanied by an opposite reaction. As I was careening down the 30 degree roof slope, I did take a rather flashing look at that law. Then it was a rather speedy descent for the remaining two stories, ending in a rather sudden stop. Not one to be burdened for too long by little pains such as a leg that now had it's foot facing behind me and an arm that was simply dangling and unable to move, I race-hobbled around the house to go retrieve my computing machine to see if it was actually rebooted.
I was met by the next door neighbor who for some reason turned white as a sheet at my newfound appearance. However, in his hand he had a hunk of twisted and mangled plastic that I immediately recognised as my computing device. He handed it to me, and I opened it, then pushed the on button to see if it worked. As it whirled and clicked and growled like a baby tiger in the hard drive, he pointed up to a hole in his house that was once a window and stated that my computing machine had crashed through his window. At that precise moment, my machine dinged like a little bell and flashed a blue colored message that said, "Windews has crashed."
"See that?" I said to him, "You're quite wrong. Your house has crashed my Windews." As we began to argue about it, our voices kept getting louder and louder until we were yelling. Which brings me to the second time the law made a showing that day.
We were both yelling because at this point a trio of sirens had made it to our location, a policeman , a red ambulance and an unmarked white ambulance. The policeman in the dark blue shirt was the first to approach, sternly informing me that neighbors had seen my kick the computer attempt. So he slapped the cuffs on the one arm that still worked and told me that I was in a Big heap of trouble for sure!
The paramedic from the red ambulance and dressed in light blue garb was the second to approach, took one good look at my backwards foot and dangling arm, proceeded to sternly inform me that the neighbors had seen me fall, jabbed an oversize syringe of painkiller in my arm, and told me that I was in a Big heap of trouble for sure!
The other driver from the unmarked white van in a nice white suit was the last to approach. He didn't day a word, but instead helped me into a nice white sweater which he mistakenly put on backwards all the while softly singing an old song by Naploean the XIV, "They're coming to take me away, ha ha!" which he tied at least one sleeve behind my back. He then gave me a ride to a nice happy place where I also met up with the policeman and the red ambulance driver and a whole new group of people wearing light blue clothes and masks and stethoscopes and things.
I woke up a few days later, handcuffed to a hospital bed, and now I have made it past floppy discs, AOL, and to this site with just one simple question. Can anyone tell me what I was originally posting about? The doctors say that the two story aerodynamics attempt may leave me forgetting things like what I last wrote about forgetting things like what I last wrote like forgetting things like what I last wro....................................
Author's note......just a humour piece, no Deadstiffcatts were made any deader, fiction for a random smile, ok? Specials cheers to Ob1quixote!