Most of us think we're pretty good with computers. But how much do we really know? To be considered a power user, at least half of these statements should apply to you.
I have written a script that downloads new episodes of popular television shows at a specific time every night, generates forum and Twitter posts complaining about the downloaded episodes, then deletes each episode so I don't have to personally watch any of them.
I have been known to keep several internet browser tabs going at once.
Hardware? Yeah, I know hardware. Remove the staples from a PC case so we can look inside, and I'll point out the CPU, keyboard, and pendulum in less than ten minutes.
I can make a checkmark appear in the empty box preceding this statement.
My computer is completely hack-proof. Every time a virus starts taking over my system, I expertly hit Alt+Ctrl+Delete to bring up the Task Manager and stop the process.
No one has a firmer grasp on e-mail than me. I know what a reply is. Nine times out of ten when I go to attach a file I remember to click the paperclip and not the little chain links.
I have all the latest applications. FatherPeach. Text Blaster Symphony. Screensaver Funeral Enterprise Edition. Alice Please Stop. Bug Describer Pro. Charles Barkley's Executable-To-Wav Converter.
I'm constantly adjusting the brightness level of my monitor to compensate for the position of the sun even though I live in a broom closet with anime toilet paper wedged into every seam where light might leak in.
I haven't played a flight sim in half a decade but my elaborate flight stick and pedal setup is always plugged in... just in case.
I have strong feelings about a number of technical issues, but to get a healthy perspective I make sure to find out how other people feel. I do this by searching for "My Reaction When" or "MRW" + (topic) and interpreting the image that was posted. Usually it's an animated gif of an attractive woman, and one of the commenters helpfully points out that they are "weirdly attracted" to her.
My desktop has been expertly customized. Gone is the stock wallpaper. In its place, an 800 x 600 pure black wallpaper image centered against the backdrop of a background color that is nearly the exact same shade of black, but not quite.
I often find myself staring at my computer screen until the power saver gets ready to turn the screen off, at which point I wiggle the mouse a bit and resume my staring.
There isn't a government agency in the world that can track my online activities. I only look at illegal pages for twelve seconds at a time, at the very most. Nowhere near the thirty seconds they need to trace my location.
I know that in addition to scrolling down, sometimes the mouse wheel can also scroll up.
When I put on shades I'm exactly like that one guy in The Matrix. No one cares about me and I'm replaced by Harold Perrineau.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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