The Jim-Bob Report

"Good evening, everyone. It's been another raw day in the heartland. Let's go right to our man, Bob, who has been faithfully watching that computer hostage drama unfold. Bob? How are things out Ioway?"

"Well, Jim, cute punnish phrases aside, it's been a day of mixed results. Things were looking rather bleak earlier this morning. It seems the wife, still locked in the embrace of her husband's computer, has taken to writing poetry. Really, really bad poetry. The neighbors around here are starting to get pret-ty scared.....and.....well.....we're all a little nervous."

"So Bob, would you say this points to the woman becoming mentally unhinged? Intellectually unbalanced? Not working with a full compliment of neurotransmitters?"

"Jim, not being a professional psychoanalyst, I would hate to hazard a guess. But, as a husband, I might just say that when you put a female and that much chocolate together, and then throw a random technological failure into the mix, you are just asking for trouble. Not that I would know.....uh.....on a personal level, mind you."

"OK, Bob. All insightful whimsy aside, have there been any new developments besides the allegedly abominable, though surprisingly refreshing free verse that you mentioned.?"

"Yes, Jim. As a matter of fact there have. At approximately 11:00 a.m., that is, this morning, Jim, the emotionally unstable female was seen leaving the house with a teenage daughter at her side. Police determined there was no immediate danger, since they were going shopping and were basically as happy as clams. Something about 'buying out the Goodwill Store,' I believe."

"And Bob, what can you tell us as to the progress being made on the computer repair/upgrade/makeover? Is there anything, anything at all which you have learned?"

"Well Jim, we do have one report that came in, just a moment ago. Witnesses say that a small tendril of smoke was seen wafting up from the general vicinity of the wife's computer. Details are still sketchy, but well placed sources recall hearing some muttering from the husband. It would appear that something did, indeed, bite the dust. The exact identity of the floppy drive is being withheld until notification of kin. "

"Hmmm. That is sobering news. Now, you mentioned the words, 'tendril' and 'wafting.' Quite a pretty little word picture, there, Bobbo. You wouldn't be bucking for a Pulitzer Prize nomination, now would you?"

"Jim! I'm shocked. Really, I am! I........I.........I don't know what to say. Except......well.... I would like to take this opportunity to express my thanks........"

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