"My computer is giving a false positive,"

"My computer is giving a false positive," she typed, "indicating that my secondary hard drive is facing imminent failure. Tests and observation show this is untrue. What do I do?"

As an I.T. guy I wanted to type "Wipe your hard drive and then shoot yourself." But I'd already been warned today. So I typed "Press the ON button. Does your computer turn on?" She

replied, "No, but pressing you would turn me on." Wow. That was so randomly shocking I felt uncomfortable, almost like I was a victim of sexual harassment. I quickly looked at

my feet, searching for a clever response. However I could not come up with anything except, "To each it's own!"

It was an excellent retort but I only thought of it at 4 am in the morning. I quickly wrote it down and fell asleep. I woke up the next day and read it. "To Peach disown?" (swell)

Maybe I was writing in code & the retort was clever after all. If one rearranged the letters it could read "Down is to cheap" which made more sense. I'll tell the Golden Gander

that I'm a secret agent, maybe then he'd stop bugging me about pointless and meaningless explinations of things that we're never designed to be explained. I will move to

really create the effect of a robot the next time I dance. This to me was most paramount. To dance like a robot. This would silence all questions through awesomeness. The problem

was my hyper motility. This really stood in the way of the rigid motions required to be an excellent robot dancer. I found a way to fix this by fixing splints to my joints which li

mited my range of motion. I danced every night and I was adored by many. The strobe lights flashed and smoke curled around me. I moved like no one before me. I was robot.