I've managed to go and do the impossible. I've destroyed my iBook. After working outside in the sweltering heat Thursday, I came home to a warm dinner and the promise of some uninterrupted surfing. The kids were in bed, the wife was placated, and I decided to sit down at the computer with a nice bowl of sugar-filled boo-berry cereal.
As I lifted the spoon to scoop up the last few pieces; I somehow managed to lose control over my spoon-hand motor functions and proceeded in a neanderthal like fashion to backhand my bowl, splashing a torrent of blue-flecked milk across the keyboard.
Moojuice infiltrated the innards of my computer within seconds. I unplugged it immediately and turned it off, flipping it upside down in a vain attempt to drain the white destruction. Moments later, after taking out the battery, I was greeted with...milk. In the battery compartment.
I prayed to three separate gods, and even invented a new one just to pray to before attemtping to revive my precious laptop. Tapping the on button resulted in nothing more than the whirring of a very pissed-off sounding fan. No hot monitor action. No operating system love. Nada.
The iBook is dead. Long live the iBook.
Rest in peace.
