to the tune of: Conventioneers by Barenaked Ladies
Last Sunday night I got a call at 11 PM from a mysterious deep-voiced gentleman.
"Is this Michael J. Brzozowski?"
Lucky me. I must've won the Publisher's Clearinghouse sweepstakes. Funny, I don't remember entering that. That middle initial is serious business though. Only credit card companies know that... and Stanford people. But what am I going to say? Guy already told Deep Voice I was home.
"Yes."
"I have top-secret information for you. Go to the Marguerite stop at Campus and Bowdoin." (click)
Go to a bus stop in the dark at 11 PM based solely on a phone call? Sure, why not? So I set off, my flatmates accompanying me for protection. The street corner was devoid of sketchy people in trenchcoats (and Marguerites) so we kinda stood around until Ben noticed a slip of paper taped to the bus stop sign. It was a game clue. Excellent! And so it began.
Twenty or thirty minutes later, the clues led us back home, where a throng of people had crammed themselves into my very messy room and were about to run out of oxygen when I opened the door. Surprise! Thanks everyone!
So maybe the celebration was premature. My desktop started overheating again, and I discovered the CPU fan was dying. Bless my little Athlon that it gracefully cuts power instead of melting down. But I conned Kendra into taking me to Fry's and got a new fan and an even more powerful power supply. So powerful it emits a soothing blue glow out the back. Well, actually, that's the LEDs put in there for that purpose. It looks kinda cool...if you're behind the computer. From the front it almost looks eerily possessed, or maybe as if it were about to jump to warp speed or something.