Syphalitic Disease-Ridden Donkey Whore

Imagine if you will, a man. Now imagine that this man's name is Steve.

Now imagine that this man's name is Ichabod, because I've just realized that Ichabod is a way better name than Steve.

Now, while you are imagining things, imagine that Ichabod is walking down a crowded street in New Orleans' French Quarter. Imagine that this is pre-flood, because, you know, bloated corpses and the weeping poor are not where I'm going with this story.

Imagine that Ichabod encounters some prostitutes in a darkened doorway. They are attractive, clean-looking prostitutes... The kind that have regular visits with the doctor and always use protection. Imagine that Icahbod turns away from these somewhat safe ladies of the night and goes instead to an even darker doorway, where a grizzled old woman waits. Imagine that this hairy goat-lady with a face full of erupting boils and a splintered wooden leg can be had for the small price of 3 dollars. Imagine Ichabod going through that doorway, his 3 bucks in hand, and having sweaty humpy unprotected sex with that festering old goat-woman.

Now imagine that Ichabod humps that woman bareback three more times. Imagine later in the evening Ichabod drinks a large glass of toxic waste. Then he licks clean a public bathroom seat. Now imagine he's humping a dead aligator is a fly-infested alley. Now he's shooting used heroin into his toes and eyeballs. Now he's rolling around open-mouthed in a vomit-filled dumpster.

Imagine the state of Ichabod's imune system after such a night. Imagine the kinds of sick disgusting things floating around in his bloodstream.

Now imagine that Ichabod is my computer, or as it is now known around Wombat Central, the Syphalitic Disease-Ridden Donkey Whore.

This is my very long winded (because I only roll one way and that way is looong winded) way of telling you that I'm having some trouble right now with the SDRDW. Fear not though, because I've had a visit from the doctor, and he assures me that we may not have to shoot the SDRDW and put it out of its misery. There may be some surgery involved. There may be blood, people. That's the kind of dire circumstances the SDRDW has gotten itself into with all the whoring around town and the sleeping with the unclean it's been up to. But have faith. I truly believe that the Syphalitic Disease-Ridden Donkey Whore will rise up once again, no longer Syphalitic and Disease Ridden, but still, you know... A Donkey Whore.

In the meantime, to those of you who have been sneaking into my house and fucking my computer (you know who you are...), I'm changing the locks and barring the windows, boys.