My wife and technology do not get along.
Now don't get me wrong, I love my wife with all my heart. But she has problems with technology that rival some teams problems with getting into the Superbowl. We're talking about a woman who just has to look at a computer in order for it to start running slower than the Lion's front offensive line.
For instance: I can be on my computer. Writing this blog. My computer runs awesomely when I'm on it. It's fast enough, I can pull up a web page no problem, and I can type into the input box to bore you to death with my stories.
Later on that evening, my wife can get on my computer. Now I don't know how it happens, but I do believe that my computer (like our toaster oven) can sense when my wife is at the keyboard. What then happens I did not believe until I saw it with my own eyes. She tried to open up a web page. Just a single page. Facebook I think it was. And it took five minutes to load. All the while my wife is there snarking and cussing at the inanimate object like some people cuss at the Packer's when they have a bad play. I look at the status bar, the start bar, and every other bar on my computer to see if there's any programs eating up all the RAM.
There's not.
She finally gets frustrated enough to stand up, walk away, and go crochet or cuss at the toaster oven for not turning on. (Is it plugged in honey? OF COURSE IT IS! Check again. OOPS.) I then walk over to the computer, and attempt to log into my facebook account. Somehow sensing that I am back behind the keyboard, the page comes up. SHOOP! Loaded.
When my wife finally is finished arguing with a toaster oven, she comes back over to see me playing one of my video games flawlessly with great frame rate and no slowdown of the computer whatsoever.
Wife: *WHAP!*
Me: What'd I do to deserve that?
Wife: Your computer hates me.
Me: Don't take it personally, all technology hates you, you know this.
Wife: *KATHUMP*
Me: Cough Cough. It's the truth, and could you please hand me my spleen?
One thing that I have realized though through marriage is that God has granted me with both a brain and the mens version of sexual reproduction equipment. But only enough blood to use one at a time. How did I come to this piece of knowledge? Through experimentation with the medications that I am on, along with knowledge gleaned by watching my parents (Both my Dad and my Step-Dad, and no they're not married or together......) age.
You see, when we men are young we appreciate the pulchritude in the world around us. As teenagers when the weather begins to warm up and women begin to show their ankles (I live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, which is basically like the North Pole Lite) we teenaged boys are then able to direct traffic without using our hands. If we're extremely unlucky, then we're able to point north. The geese returning from the southern climates just watch us males to see which direction we rotate as the women walk by flashing some ankle, and if we're lucky some calf muscle at us.
Now most women feel that men at this age are stupid. That we only think with our willy wonka's. This is only APPRENTLY true due to the fact of the blood flow being redirected into our southern most regions. As men age, they appear to grow more intelligent. Once again this is only APPARENTLY true. As our willy nilly's begin to age, they don't function as well as they used to. This frees up vital blood that until this time (called pre-30's for those of you keeping track) has been directed south of the border, and our expanding gut line.
As our brains receive more blood, we're able to think more intelligently. And none moreso than my 70 year old Father. Now old Dad (compared to my late 40's Young Dad who is my Step Dad) had a heart attack that affected many bodily systems. Including the weather report in his south pole. Now instead of being frigid and at attention, it waves as limply as the flag on the moon. So he's depressed.
No need to be depressed Dad! Now that you're willy-vanilli is broken, you can be a complete and utter GENIUS with all that new blood flow! At the age of 70 you can pontificate on the color purple for hours on end! You could be the new Thomas Edison (you knew him didn't you? Or was that the Allosaurus?) or Albert Einstein! Or......you could follow in the footsteps of ole Nikky Tesla and marry your pigeon!
I'm 32 years old and on medications that make the playing style of the Cincinnati Bengals seem tough in comparison to my wife-wooer. As a result I've noticed a decided increase in my intelligence and stamina. I can now walk backwards without falling on my face! I can now sit for hours with my legs uncrossed as my wife bends over in front of me cleaning house! I can think for hours on the facts of life, and why exactly a nine year olds conversation seems to be more intelligent at times than most sports announcers!
And if I wish, I could call up my dear old Dad and talk about the color purple.
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