Moral of the story: Don't fuck with me or I'LL WRITE SHIT ABOUT YOU, BITCH.

There has never been a point in time where I have been technology's bitch. Ne-verr. This may be because up until the age of 12 I talked to computers. You know, just in case they could hear me (IT COULD HAPPEN).

I stayed up late on my 11th birthday too to see if Hagrid or Dumbledore or even fucking Harry Potter would come along and tell me I was a witch or a goblin or something.

This is actually true.

But that's beside the point. I was an... imaginative child.

Anywho, for whatever reason, computers love me, and I love them... mostly.

I have this one computer which I got for my 12th birthday (I rock a laptop these days) and it's now home to every "The Sims" PC game that was ever released.

Every. Single. One.

I have a lot of time on my hands.

And I happen to be in love with The Sims.

Except I can never play it properly because my computer is s-l-o-w. And now The Sims 3 has been released (don't judge me. No, seriously, stop it) I'm in a pissing crisis, yo.

Something HAD to be done.

(NOTE: I've been saying that for four years.)

So after suffering a mini-meltdown over compatible parts and other technical gumph witnessed by my BFF Main Gay.5 who is just an absolute computer bastard because he knows everything, I headed down to the local suppliers.

Enter "Man", formally known as Computer Jackass.

He was the kind of guy who thought he was better than everyone else because he had a shiny badge on his shirt and SO WHAT, HUH? SO DO I! SEE? IT SAYS BON JOVI ON IT AND EVERYTHING.

He slimed up to me, actually ADJUSTED HIS FUCKING BADGE and asked if I was lost.

"Erm... yes. I'm looking for a RAM memory board, 1GB, DDR?"

He takes me to a stand I must have missed.

"I'm afraid we don't have any of those."

"Is this not it?" I ask, picking out exactly what I needed.

"Umm, yes. That's £49.99." He tells me.

FIFTY FUCKING QUID?!

"Why?" I toe the edge of a spaz attack. "It was £35 on the website."

"Well yes..." He says like it was blindingly obvious. "But that doesn't cover installation."

"I can install it myself, can I have it cheaper?"

"Are you sure you know what you are talking about? Because we don't do refunds."

I'm slowly seeing redder and redder.

"Good, because you won't be seeing me again." I snapped.

And then he gave me the look. The look like I'd kicked him in the balls the week previously.

= HOSTILE.

He huffs and says "I'll take you to the till." And storms off. A victory dance would have totally appropriate right then.

I owned that bitch.

And better yet, my computer runs smoother than a baby's butt.

You better believe that babies' butts can run. My sister's did it once, it landed on my foot.