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Spoofs & Satire

Will You Watch My Computer for Me?

Good manners and solidarity require us to monitor each other’s things in a public library. But what happens when Iranian porn addicts get involved?

Well, what happened was this weird guy came in and looked around sort of suspiciously, and then he snatched up your laptop and did the fast-walk out of here. Why didn’t I stop him? Dude, you said, “Watch my computer.” I watched the whole thing! You didn’t say, “Keep people from stealing my computer. Throw yourself in harm’s way if someone steals my computer. Do whatever it takes to protect my computer, even though I don’t know you, because I’m paying you a high hourly rate with benefits to make sure this computer does not get stolen.” You need to be more specific with your requests. And if your laptop means that much to you, for God’s sake, don’t leave it under my watch. I don’t give a fuck about anything.


* * *

Well, what happened was this big fucking bald guy came in and he picked up your computer and put it under his arm like he owned it. And I was like, “What the fuck, dude? Get your hands off my man’s computer!” And he was like, “Fuck you!” And he tried to run out of the place, and I ran after him and jumped on his fucking back and started whacking him on the side of his bald head. He still didn’t give up; it was like riding a crazy-ass bull. So I got him in a sleeper hold, and it took about 30 seconds, but I put him down. After I picked up your laptop and put it back on the table exactly where you left it, he came to and ran off. I don’t think he’ll be back. No need to thank me. Listen, when I say I’m going to watch your computer, I’m saying your computer is my word. No one’s gonna fuck with my boy’s computer, you know? I don’t care if I have no idea who you are. You can buy me a coffee for my efforts, though, brother.


* * *

Well, what happened was this crazy 14-year-old meth whore came screeching in here, crying about how she needed to hear some Justin Timberlake or she was going to die. And she saw your computer and started fucking with your iTunes. I was like, “Hold on there, young lady. Get off that man’s computer. I’m calling your father.” She got off your computer, but then she was standing by the ficus tree, still looking at it out of the corner of her eye. I was like, “Fuck it, I’m going to put my man’s computer right here in my laptop bag to protect it.” And even after that crazy bitch left, I was like, “I’m going to hold his laptop right here in my bag, just in case she comes screeching back in here and tries to listen to his Justin Timberlake.” So that’s why I have your laptop hidden in my bag. And that’s why I refused to tell you where your laptop was when you came back from the bathroom, because that meth whore might have shown up and gone crazy on both of us. I was looking out for you, dude.


* * *

Well, what happened was a gang of Iranian porn addicts came in here and saw your computer and they, you know, did what they do. One dude, who looked exactly like Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, was wearing black leather and he was all tough and standing with his arms folded, like, “Don’t fuck with us Iranian porn addicts. Just let us do what we need to do.” And the others had a fucking orgy right there on your laptop, dude. That’s why there’s a mess on your keyboard. One guy was putting the hard drive into the software, if you know what I mean. And I gotta be honest, when you asked me to watch your computer, I was like, “Fuck, I guess I gotta say yes. It would be rude to say no.” Well, I never expected the act of watching your computer to be so much fun.


* * *

Well, what happened was—see this dude lying on the floor here? I killed him. He walked past your computer. Actually, I have no idea if he even saw it on the table. But he got kind of close. And I killed him. No need to thank me, my laptop brother.