computer illiteracy

‘Hello,’
“Hi, how can I help?”
‘I can’t open my mail box’
“Have you got a virus?”
‘No, I always talk like this,’
“Is there a virus attached to your mail box?”
‘Snails and a few leaves,’
“As a screen saver?”
‘Pardon!!’
“What’s on your desk top,”
‘Papers, an empty tea cup, a couple of pens and right at the back, Uncle Gerald’s ashes.’
“What icons on your desk top?”
‘Photo of Maureen and I on our wedding day, it’s the one where I’ve got my foot up on the back of the chair, looks like she married a guy with one leg.’
“The problem could be your hard drive”
‘It looks more like rust. Shall I move the mail box then?’
“What do you mean?”
‘Shall I take my mail box off my hard drive?’
“If you do that you will not get mail.”
‘Don’t be stupid, I can use the neighbours while mine is fixed’
“Has he got an apple?”
‘For all I know he could have a juicy pair, What have apples got to do with mail boxes.’
“I can help you if I have the right information! Have you got an apple or Hewlet Packard?”
‘I used to own a Harley.’
“For Heavens sake.. What kind of computer do you own?”
‘I don’t… Couldn’t understand the lingo if I had one.’
“Why the hell did you ring Mr Computer?”
‘I thought I’d dialed, Hire a Hubby’.

To the kind people who I have never had the pleasure of getting to know and yet feel a certain animosity toward. To you of the technological age, who have nothing better to do with your time than send me ridiculous email messages, I say thank you, thank you, Why? I hear you typing.
My answer, not through your preferred media but through this column, is because while you are bothering me you are leaving everyone else alone. I do not care that by confirming receipt of your intrusion into my personnel computer and sending said rubbish on to fifty five of my best friends, I will have good fortune for the rest of the month. My good fortune will be when you leave off sending me emails. The horror of it all is that what you are doing is tantamount to witchcraft…yes.. witchcraft. The threats outlining the ghastly things liable to happen to me if I do break the chain are evil and most probably illegal.
Many thanks to the long lost member of my family who actually spells their name quite differently to mine, many thanks for dieing in Nairobi and leaving me $300 million dollars. I am so grateful to the Solicitor, Mr Snackletoss who took the time to track me down after discovering that I am the last living relative of the deceased. I am touched that you are willing to take a mere 5% of the inheritance. As requested I am forwarding my bank details, Jelly Bean Trust, Bank of Toyland, Notonyornellie, New Zealand.
While I am on the subject, let me take this opportunity to tell the medical organization who have an insatiable desire to see me growing my unmentionables, ‘Mr Rudey is quite happy the way he is!!’ So put that in your floppy disk.