FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.
I need a new computer.
Just when I hit my stride as an electronica producer, my computer decides that it's a blue-haired, bed-shitting, abacus. Really, I think I could almost do better with an abacus.
This fucking boat anchor is barely two years old, even dogs don't age as fast as technology (and before you try to compare the two, how many trance artists do you know that are dogs). The ram isn't the problem, nor is the video which is more than sufficient, it's the godforsaken CPU which, just for shits and giggles, the manufacturers change the pin configuration every couple of years so you have to buy everything new. The only major piece of hardware I can retain is the hard drives, everything else has to go. So now I'm left with a really fuckin' expensive toaster.
Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, this does not please me. I'm on the verge of having a track worthy of sending to labels and this happens.
I swear god has a vendetta against me.
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