My computer is shot. Like, virtually out of nowhere, a virus, or, more precisely, a shitload of viruses decided to up and bite the living will of my computer to exist in a mere state of reloading, never booting up. After calling Louie, we decided to wipe the hard drive, save for My Documents documents.
I may even have to copy those files onto a portable hard drive and then wipe the rest of the main drive out. Start new. Which means Lizard People's "The Know" will be gone. Recording software will be gone. Original Patch files will be gone.
This is like death. Pure hell.
I would like to make it my purpose in life to find the programmers who made these malicious viruses. They don't reap the benefits of SEEING people suffer. The kind of person who just makes shit to fuck with people and then not even care to SEE their efforts realized by a victim are the true enemies of this world.
Death would not be proper. Cutting off their hands so that they can never type a line of corrupted code will suffice. Do it without anesthesia, and when they pass out, bring them back from unconsciousness. Make them watch you hacksaw your way through their wrists.
She Wants Revenge -- "Tear You Apart"
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