Please kill me.

There's nothing like coming home from a hard night's work, turning on your computer and having it make an unholy horror-movie-screaming noise to rival Jamie Lee Curtis from her "Halloween" days. It started up okay, made it's little "Happy Mac KaBong" sound, then...nothing. No desktop, no finder, no nothing. Only an apple staring back at me mockingly and a little endlessly spinning graphic. And then the screaming. Loud, maniacal screaming. Grinding of gears...nails on a chalkboard. Evil; a sound that said "You fool! You entrusted me with all your earthly information! Your banking, your photographs, your videos, your music. All the bits of your soul that can be stored on Read-Only Memory! Hah! I have hijacked it all and you will never see it again!Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

After I composed myself I waited the 2,560 seconds it took for AppleCare to begin manning the phone lines and ended up with this asshat:

Techie: Your problem is with a Powermac G4?

Me: No, I said it was a Powerbook G4.

Techie: (long pause) So that's a portable computer?

Me: ...

I made my sickly laptop perform for him over the phone and he said he'd never heard anything like it his whole life. Great.

I feel as if my arm has been amputated at the elbow. Y'all may not hear from me for some time. As of now I'm writing this at the local CyberStation surrounded by kids playing Quake or whatever the hell it is that kids are playing these days.

Like I said: please kill me.