No, THIS is rambling...
Okay, so...
We (Eric, Joe, Grant and I) were spread over most of Megan's living room, which isn't small but it isn't big it's just kinda like a normal living room that fits an entertainment center, a chair, a couch, and a computer that we were working on cuz her hard drive went bad but we didn't find that out until after we installed windows a few times and formatted a few times cuz nothing was working like it shoulda been (which shoulda been our first of many clues that something was desperately wrong with the hardware and not with the software like is usually the problem and it's fixable, too, without spending money like you have to when your hardware goes bad) even after we tweaked a few things and tried to trick the computer into thinking there was something there that wasn't really there, but it was still there enough to try to fool it into working after the aforementioned tweaks in the hardware and software which is sometimes hard to do, but it wasn't so bad in this case cuz we eventually came to the conclusion that the hard drive was bad and a new one need to be put there if they were to get the computer working again whether it be bought, borrowed, or stolen was up to them to figure out cuz it's not like we had an extra one lying around to hand out like some Vietamese whore named Mhing Li that will do whatever you want for five whole dollars after you talk her down from ten or so cuz you get what you pay for and you're getting half off for a reason and it's called a Sexually Transmitted Disease that will kill you before you get the chance to become too bitter to have any kind of faith in women and grow to be one of those old he-man woman-haters that feel the need to impose all of their social, political, and moral views onto the young people who are too busy "whackin off in my goddamn tool shed" to things that used to be considered taboo but now are as common as things like a second divorce, automatic transmissions, and high-speed internet for only $19.99 for the first six months and after that you have to pay with the virgin blood of humans which you get from your first born son, sacrificed of course, and you collect the run-off blood with a certain alter that (you guessed it) can be rented for only $19.99 per month extra to be used in conjuction with a special cooler to store the blood so it doesn't go bad that you can rent from them for only $19.99 extra per month if you keep timely payments that are never ever late (and they don't care if you're 20 seconds late becuase the blood was coagulating instead of running off into the appropriate bags becuase they have a fix for that, but the 'self-install kit' has to be brought to your house and you're charged a $13.00 installation fee when all they did was drive to your house with the kit that you bought from them so you could install it yourself instead of paying an installtion fee that will leave you feeling like you dropped the soap in a prison shower packed with built black guys all nicknamed Big Bubba on account of them being entirely proportionate except for one area that will be unnamed cuz we all know what's being implied when a prison shower metaphor is being used in a situation that implies you're being raped by a company cuz the $13.00 you paid wasn't 'installation' cuz they didn't do anything except bring it to you and in most English speaking countries that's called 'shipping' not 'we still have to charge you an installation fee cuz we like to rape you over and over and over again until you, like the adaptable animals we've all come to be, accept the fact that this is going to happen every day for the rest of your life by one company or another or by one person or another so why shouldn't it be us cuz we let you have favors like high-speed internet in return for only $19.99 a month for the first six months' which should be closer, I think, to most company's slogans that have a monopoly on something even though it's not technically a monopoly cuz then someone would have to be sued and regulated and no one wants to have to use that much toilet paper cuz then the toilet just backs up and you feel that overwhelming feeling of "....shit!" followed closely by something that resembles wanting to just leave it and pretend it wasn't you so someone else can clean it up but then you feel bad cuz you know it's not fair to have someone clean up your shit and not get the benefits plan and salary that janitors get cuz I'm sure it has to be compensation enough to keep you around for years and years and years cleaning up shit, mopping the floors, washing off graffiti, and yellin at kids to "get the fuck outta here and stop whackin off in my goddamn tool shed" after you find the stack of obcure magazines next to a bunch of newspapers that look like the bed of a bum that used to live in the state mental institution that was down the road and held a lot of crazy people that are now out on the streets of wherever cuz some guy that they didn't elect (cuz they're insane and they don't/can't vote) decided that the state mental institution should be abandoned cuz of 'cut backs' and 'he's a lazy bastard that could have gotten $3 million in a deal that would have preserved the landmark instead of doing nothing about it and having it get demolished so that new houses can be put up there so that more taxes can come in so he can buy that second home where his mistress (who is principal at the high school and stealing money from, largely, the school's athletics program which will total up to almost $1.5 million before she's done) can sleep at night instead of bringing her to the house cuz the wife suspects something anyway and may walk in at any moment which then will cause their divorce and will cost him almost half of his stuff before she'll come to her senses (she's broke), swallows her pride (among other things), and they get married again' like some made for T.V. movie about a city in turmoil over the low income, low graduation rate, low percent NOT on gov't aid that's provided by the tax payers of nearby and across the state and then people wonder, like a child asking a question about why the animals are 'fighting,' why there are cutbacks in the state budget that affect everyone in one way or another, more particularly the people that are actually paying their taxes, medicare, and social security that won't be there when the kids that are paying it now all get to be near the age of retirement and need it so that they don't have to work until the day of their death because they didn't have the finicial opportunity to invest in something so that it could crash after another absurd company-bankruptcy-conspiricy or ridiculous war on terrorism that's just an excuse to spend more money and be important even though most people didn't vote for you but you still feel the need to do irrational, inadvisable, dangerous, and ingorant acts such as going overseas to start a war that will be approved by Congess without faulter becuase you're all in the same party and if you're in the party and vote the other way, you don't get to decide things anymore, you get to feel the cutbacks hit your campaign fund directly becuase some people are vengeful bastards.
But that's not why my finger hurts...
My finger hurts cuz we (Eric, Joe, Grant and I - in case you forgot) had Megan's keys and cell phone and we were playing monkey in the middle and she was the monkey that was in the middle of this particular situation and, like a monkey, grabbed a tool (in this case two large Phillip's head screwdrivers that were gripped by thier namesake and brandished with painful accuracy) to help her abolish the threat of not getting her keys or cell phone back cuz she sure as hell wasn't going to catch them from us as we (Eric, Joe, Grant and I - again with the memory) are still too skillful at the art of Monkey in the Middle from playing it too much but she obviously had played I'll Kill You With This Screwdiver before so it was an even match to start but after the deterieration (I dunno how to spell that) of key joints such as my knuckles and other places that came to hurt just as much during the game like everyone's shins except for Joe cuz for some reason he didn't get hit once until after we all pointed out three times that he hadn't been hit by Megan's ruthless screwdriver attack that leave you breathless for the simple fact that she has an uncanny accuracy with the really hard end cuz she knows that it hurts so much more than anything you would have expected her to do to her friends which are all very nice and well-behaved unless, of course, we are being mean and stealing her stuff so that we may taunt her until she hits us (Eric, Joe, Grant and I - it's been a while) hard with the (prioritized in this order) hardest, closest thing she can find.
That's why my finger hurts
Wow... that was really morbid there for a while. I would also like to point out that this is the seventh sentence so far. Thank you for your time and patience.
::sigh::
I need a life...
~Nick