Dear Sony Vaio PCG-V505DX,
I thought I was buying a compact, highly portable machine to tote here and there in my wanderings, but you’ve turned out to be so much more. You sit in my lap and warm my goods like an accomplished lover. We sleep together and first thing I do is roll over to you and turn you on like you do me, stroke your touchpad, finger your keys. Your wireless convenience allows me to take you everywhere, and where you go, I shall follow.
Has Sony pulled a Philip Morris,
Slipped something in your mix?
To make me need you, crave you
Like a junkie’s morning fix?
You are the sleek and silver monkey on my back. Your hard drive makes me whimper, your gigabytes make me swoon. No three-and-one-half-inch floppy you, babe. You’re all DVD—Divine Virile Dog, making me leap from once staid hetero to binary-byte bunny.
Initialize me, RAM me, drive me, I don’t give 32 bits, I am software at your service.
Your helpless user,
Alicia Gifford
