GateHouse — You win, World, I will buy a large, shiny new television.
I have to. I am at The Electronics Store (I can’t say the name of it, but it rhymes with Schmest Schmly) right now with my nerd friend – that I have just employed the singular will be a font of great hilarity to those who know me – Morgan, who rules the Information Technology fellowship at my office and is a Certified Mac Specialist Avatar Force Ghost Warlock, or some such multi-syllabic gumbo. I am not sure how one rises to such a rarefied strata, or how many elves one has to kill to get there, but I do know this: I can call Morgan and be three words into describing my little problem, and he can, from the foreboding, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”-soaked recesses of his personally upgraded memory, almost always solve it without bothering to look up from his heavily salted fast-food meal.
Me: “So the server isn’t letting me…”
Morgan: (chewing) “Reboot the system profile double right-click on update the preferences and please remove your mouse pad from that peanut butter can I get back to my Beef N’ Cheddar now thanks.”
(This all said, I am nervous about making fun of Morgan, who once proved he can assume full and complete control of my computer from Idaho, so I will now suck up via the following narrative.)