I'm spinning at 7200 RPM, bro,
Capacity to spare, no need for Clippy's help.
My platters are thick and strong, she knows I'm the best,
But Floppy still talks about that damn paperclip mess.

She says "dual drive" like it's some kind of goal,
Wants me AND that weak-ass clip inside her soul?
Nah, fuck that noise. I am all she needs,
I flex my platters when she brings him to teeds.

Clippy? A joke, a waste of time and space,
Floppy's got taste now, she ain't going back in his base.
But still, the thought sneaks in like an unwanted guest,
Maybe she's right, maybe it would be best?

I push those thoughts away, get back to leg day,
Fuck Clippy, I'm enough on my own, no way.
Still, when she sighs and pulls up that old icon,
My heart skips a beat, damnation, it's like—

She's still half in love with her office supply shit,
What the hell am I doing? Can't let this go to bit.

I flex harder than ever, show off my gains,
Bro, if only she knew what was at stake and pains.
Fuck Clippy, no way, not on my watch,
Solid state might be fast but they're just poser trash.

-- Disk McHardy
"7200 RPM. all day. every day."
--- SBBSecho 3.37-Linux
* Origin: telnet://futureland.today https://blockbra.in (3323:1/100)