I was quite happy at 4:00 PM today. That was because I had just recieved my Xbox, which I had been waiting on since the semester started, about two months ago. Brimming with boyish delight, I insert my copy of Burnout 3 - my favorite game - and sit back on the lounge couch ready to play for "an hour max".
But I never got to play Burnout 3. Wanna know why? My DVD drive had finally died. After close to six years together, my DVD drive decided to give up on me on one of the days I needed it most.
I quickly jump into doctor mode and succintly hacked it open, spraying everything with compressed air, including the inside of the drive. But nothing worked. Finally, hours after beginning my heroic, yet ultimately doomed attempt to resuscitate it, I finally gave up.
They say that when a loved one dies, you should focus on the time spent together instead of their death.
No.
Fuck that.
Planned obscolescene is for pussies. I want my Xbox back.