Keyboards
Today I cleaned my keyboard! It’s pretty goddamn gross in there. Three years of dust, hair, food, etc. Most of the keys had a pretty thick layer of dust around them which was visible without popping the keys out. So I took off every single key, polished them individually with Pledge and used Q-tips to clean out the base part of the keyboard. It’s all pretty now. AND I’m high as nuts from this Pledge smell.
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Reminds me of the Nate & Di episode where they were scrounging under the keys of their computer keyboard for pot.
Also reminds me of typing class in high school where I’d sit at a different keyboard each day and pop off keys and rearrange them. They’d last for weeks without anybody noticing. My friend Tim actually pulled off every single key on a keyboard and moved it one space to the right. I bet people flunked that class because of us. And I bet some people are still not as efficient at the keyboard as they could be if we hadn’t screwed up the keyboards in high school.
Fun fact: I was consistently THE fastest typer in the class yet I still got an F. Not a D, but an F. Hey, I wonder if maybe it was supposed to be a D but since I screwed up the keyboards, it came out as F instead.
In sixth and seventh grade, me and my friend were computer whiz kids and we figured out how to make that Mavis Beacon program count anything we typed as correct. After that, we would just sit there and act like we were typing but we’d actually put stuff like, “lasjdflajsdflj” and we both got an A+ because of that. It was pretty funny. Well, that was until I realized I was about to enter middle school and still couldn’t type (yes, I was GREAT at operating computers, but I also couldn’t type for beans). So I begged and begged for my mom to buy me a laptop (I thought laptops would be less expensive and way cooler to have than desktops at the time) and she finally gave me one for Christmas. I was the best Christmas ever. So anyway, I taught myself how to type using no programs whatsoever (basically, I would just remember the sentences Mavis Beacon used to teach me and I would type them for memory). Now I can type fast than my mom who happens to be a professional typesetter. So what’s the moral of this story? Nothing. I’m going to bed.