Untitled Page
This is what my wife told me this morning. She told me this after I was instructed not to use my laptop on my lap. Which is okay for her to do, I guess, because she's a woman. And there's less to, damage, down there.
She can be kind of a nag sometimes.
'Rob - don't drive 90 mile per hour.'
'Rob - wear your seatbelt.'
'Rob - be careful dragging the 17 foot, 300 pound Christmas tree up the side of our condo building and over our balcony.'
I mean, it never ends. And now I've been informed that the heat generated from my laptop is going to damage my boys. Based on sheer conjecture.
I guess it's possible - since the tackle's outside of the box because it has to stay a couple degrees cooler than body temperature.
So according to C. Everett Wife, I'm supposed to keep the laptop off my person, and trend towards baggy slacks. Which is difficult because I'm a cyclist,
which means my sporting wardrobe largely features spandex. Spandex trousers, wasn't that a Bloom County joke made by the basselope?
No topping of the lap, no close fitting pantaloons.
That's fine I guess. As long as I can still sky dive with my home-made parachute.