Up your Date

I have a confession to make: I am an update whore.  It's true. I am one of those countless sorry saps who has a compulsive need to update almost any and every piece of software he owns, hoping beyond hope that, one day, a cool new feature come along make him totally cream his jeans 

. . . Or, at the very least, provide some basic functionality that won't bitch-nuke his OS every 17 minutes.

(Ahh, there it is, the chorus of Mac users mocking me.)

I know, I know. The Mac is a "good box"----kinda like that homely girl next door whose been a tease since high school.  Sure, she'll get you off on warm summer nights, but those of you who haven't done the tango with the fiesty wench that is Windows will never know the joy of conquering her after she stomps on your Dragonbalz or the gut-wrecnhing let-down after you discover that you've contracted a raging case of malware from a late night hook-up she had with some tech grad from the Ukraine.

But I have given up on my OS. She has stomped on my heart one time too many. Now, I seek solace in pointless little affairs: the Chome browser updates, the Adobe patches, the Facebook work-arounds.  I live in a world of dreams. I sat at my computer and pray that the fonts will be a little lovlier, graphics a little brighter, applications a bit snappier. But when I check the update notes, all I find is a list of banal tech jargon telling me how the new code integrates Chink characters into 124 bit resolution or some such. . . basically, totally useless shit that's only designed for people living in Trinidad & Tobago. 

And so I find myself searching for the next fix, cruising the software sites, hoping beyond hope that one day I----