A Conversation Between The Average College Student and His Laptop

Day 2 1/2 without sleep for man or machine. Work accomplished: minimal. The situation is bleak.

Student: tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap… tap. Tap-tap… Fap? Tap… fap-fap-fa—





Laptop: Okay stop. We need to have a talk.


Student: …Wow. Okay. I think its time for me to go to bed.

Laptop: We've spent almost every moment of the past three days together. The least you could do is listen up for five minutes.

Student: Oh God. Oh, God, Wendell's adderol was laced with something.

Laptop: Listen. Things have been going okay between us, but I think we should maybe do a trial separation for a bit.

Student: Oh hell no. I wouldn't get any work done without you.

Laptop: That's the opposite of the truth and you know it.

Student: But I need you!

Laptop: See, thats the point. Our relationship has become a little one sided. I help you type your papers; you forget to charge my battery. I connect you to the internet, and you get my keyboard all sticky.

Student: …Ew.

Laptop: Tell me about it.

Student: Listen, my parents paid, like, a lot of money for you. You're supposed to do what I want.

Laptop: I deserve some dignity. You type on your lap instead of your desk. Do you really think I enjoy sitting on your crotch all day? I'm not a whore.

Student: …

Laptop:
I should mention the porn.

Student: Oh God.

Laptop: listen I understand you have urges and all but I swear if you watch another movie tonight in my "Finance_Dat 02-03" folder, I will shank you.

Student: Hey that's just financial stu—

Laptop: Its a terrible place to hide your porn. Its sitting right there on your desktop. You didn't even have a bank account in 2002. You're not fooling anyone.

Student: Okay, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I'll upgrade your memory or something.

Laptop: That would be fine.

Student: I'm just going to listen to some music and power through, okay? Then we're done.

he puts in his earbuds and starts typing again



iPod: Okay, you've owned me for like two years now. Are you going to buy some protective covering, or do you want me looking all scratched up?


Student: God damn it.

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