View Full Version : Copy, Paste......Delete

07-13-2007, 04:50 PM
My keys fumbled a little as I tried to get inside the door but I managed it any way. It wasn’t easy to do while toting a forty-ounce beer and a bag of mini burgs from Mini-Burger Delight, oh yeah, and I was also totally drunk to boot. I stumbled inside and turned on my answering machine, I hate my answering machine. Going into the kitchen I placed the beer and burgers on the table and began to chow.

The munchies had a serious grip on me. I wolfed down one mini burg after another, chasing it down with big swigs of beer. The messages on the answering machine were mostly old ones. The only new message of importance, or at least that had caught my attention, was from my ex-girlfriend Sherry. Scarfing up my food, I could hear her harping again on why I hadn’t picked up my stuff. My stuff roughly consisted of a belt, an umbrella, a bottle of cologne, and two books I had bought for her (which apparently she had forgotten were gifts.) The thing is I didn’t want any of that stuff which is why I had left them behind. It was her suggestion that I acquire such things in the first place, and now that we had broken up I no longer needed them.

As far as I’m concerned, real dudes don’t wear cologne, it’s too much like perfume. And only umbrellas with swords in their handles are cool, but the way I’ve been feeling lately it’s a good thing I don’t have one of those. Besides I’ve never been the type of person to be afraid of the rain, sometimes a little rain is nice. I think more people should have the good sense to go out in the rain. Enjoy the rain dudes it’ll wash away all your cheesy, stinky cologne. And my pants fit me perfectly fine, thank you, they have never accidently fallen down in public, emphasis on accidentally.

I guess I wasn’t quite over her yet.

And such were my thoughts as I reached into the bag and discovered I had only one mini burg left. Damn! A dozen mini burgs ( well eleven actually) and I was still hungry. I reverently lifted my head high, my eyes cursing the gods on the ceiling. Why didn’t I buy two or three dozen, you idiot you? I held the burger in my hand and closing my eyes I wished that I had just one more delightful little mini burg. It was then as I tore away the wrapper and started to chow down that I noticed a mini burg sitting on the table right next to my elbow. Drunk as I was, I was certain it hadn’t been there before. So I counted the wrappers, and unbelievably there were a dozen wrappers. A dozen wrappers and one still in its wrapper, thirteen in all. Yes they could have given me an extra, but I thought not. Had I actually wished a mini burg into existence? So naturally I decided to try wishing again only this time I would keep my eyes open.

I placed my hand on the mini burg and magically a very faint word began to appear on the back of my hand. It seemed to be like an after image, as if it were composed of the tiny rods and cones that make up the retina. And what the word, colored a soft cool blue, said, was “COPY.” So I copied it, I guess. Then I placed my hand on the kitchen table next to the burger and magically the word copy was replaced with the word “PASTE.” Paste it now I thought, and as I drew my hand back from the table another tasty mini burg blinked into existence.

Taking a drink from my forty, which by now was more like a twenty, I thought why not. I laid my hand upon the bottle of beer, the word copy immediately popped up on the back of my hand, it seemed brighter and more there than it had the first time. Settling my hand on the table the word paste appeared, drawing my hand back, a half full( well it’s beer, and with beer unfortunately its always half empty) forty-ounce appeared instantly. Holy cow I thought sinking back into my chair feeling dazed like I had just won a zillion-dollar lottery or something. Holy freaking cow.

Copy and paste, copy and paste, copy and paste, and just like that I had five bottles of beer. I then reached into my pocket and fished out the biggest denomination I had, a one dollar bill. I soon had more dollar bills than a twenty-foot tall stripper could carry in her g string, and made a mental note to get some twenties, no hundreds as soon as possible.

Happily drinking down my beer, my vast abundance of beer, my precious life time supply of beer, I went crazy with it. My boom box, now two boom boxes. Cell phone, shoes, prophylactics with a thin layer of dust, coffee machine, all doubled with glee. My toaster, copy and paste, and now I had two broken toasters instead of just one. Heck I don’t even know why I did that last one, I thought, spraying out a mouthful of beer in a fit of laughter.

Just as it occurred to me that I’d need a bigger place to keep all my stuff, I spied the letter that lay upon the coffee table. I picked the letter up, it was a dear John letter, full of a logic that my dim wits could never match. I was about to tear the letter up when the word “DELETE,” emblazoned in red, as if with its very own rage, appeared across my knuckles. The letter then disappeared. And it felt good, felt like a burden had been lifted from my soul. The speeding ticket deleted and gone. Junk mail deleted. A box of letters, photos and memories, filled with a joy which the last letter had lacked, gone. The room dimmed when I deleted a lamp, creating a somber mood.

My bladder was full and wisely donning a pair of gloves I went into the bathroom. As I relieved my self, I wondered if my new gift could enlarge or zoom things. But smartly decided to wait till I was sober before finding out. I had drunk so much beer that come morning I was sure that only the evidence of all that I had copied would serve as a reminder of my new found skills. While washing my hands I faced my image in the mirror. I didn’t like what I saw. My face struck me as a dirty face, in need of a shave. My mustache was caked with mustard from the mini burgs I had pigged out on, my bloodshot eyes were hardly able to meet my own eyes. Removing the glove I reached up and touched the mirror. The word delete shimmered weakly on my knuckles. The mirror didn’t just poof out of existence, but slowly started to fade, and looking at the back of my hand, which was slowly becoming transparent, the word “DELETE USER ACCOUNT,” appeared just for an instant before everything went............

07-13-2007, 05:14 PM

don't fall up the stairs

07-16-2007, 04:45 PM
Very interesting. I particularly liked this line: "more dollar bills than a twenty-foot tall stripper could carry in her g string"

07-20-2007, 04:51 AM
oh those hard deletes....can't bring them back...ouch!!

07-20-2007, 05:47 PM
Thanks for comments.