This PC was very good to me. It was cobbled together from parts of six different PCs.
It was my Millenium Falcon. The Arcadia of my youth. With it, I supervised 3700 hours of TV programming.
I wrote seven (+three) scripts currently in various stages of completion.
I finished my novel on it, and wrote hundreds of articles for newspapers, magazines and websites.
It was robust, rugged, and I treated it like a 40-year-old whore.
This was the only PC I used which has never, ever, given me a blue screen. NEVER.
When it gets temperamental, it just shuts down. I give it a few minutes, and turn it back on again.
In the end, I guess it was time for it to die. The motherboard - its soul - blew a few capacitors, perhaps due to my habit of turning the power off just like that. Or maybe the Power Supply Unit (PSU) was just erratic to begin with.
I always get pissed whenever my PC dies. It means I can't do what I am used to doing. Like smoking and listening to stupid '80s songs while I write.
I have a netbook, but I only use that for emergencies. Like for my day job.
Blogging, Twitter, Facebook, I can use my Blackberry. Without the PC, though, I will not do any creative projects. Na-ah. Not a single fucking one.
I guess I'll just have to wait till payday to get my new motherboard. An MSI K9N or something that can take:
1. An AMD dual-core processor
2. DDR2 RAM
3. SATA hard disk.
There are better systems out there, but I don't want them. I want to salvage as much hardware as I can from the old system.
Just need a motherboard, a new DVD-ROM, a liquid-cooling system, and possibly a 2TB hard disk.
Fuck, man. I want to travel to the n-th dimensions of ideaspace, but 4 capacitors blew up and I'm stuck in a smelly room with too much smoke.
I miss my porn. I mean, PC.