Skip to main content

Death by Lack of Drop Box

     Once there was a young lad. Let's call him Bob. Bob was an average Joe. However, let's not be confused, his name was Bobby Joe. He was occasionally called Robert by his angry mother, but we'll stick to Bob considering we're not angry or his mother. Whether or not one of us are his drunken father isn't applicable to the situation.

     Bobby was a diligent student, however he enjoyed doing his work in a professional, digital format. His teachers were fine with this and he usually brought his laptop and a flash drive to school. He named the flash drive Sparky, but again, that's not applicable. One day he arrived to his English class, laptop under his arm, and greeted his teacher. "Hello, Joe." The teacher responded to his "Greetings, Teacher." He was a very formal lad, as was his teacher who insisted in calling him by his middle name. After finishing his usual introductions, Bobby Joe Joe decided to take his seat.

     Once he had finished booting his laptop, he showed his teacher the cut on his thumb. Apparently she'd mistaken that for a thumbs up. It ended up fine, but he laughed to himself at the miscommunication. "Well class, I want you all to understand that we have a large and important assignment due next week. You have a 5000 page report to make on the history of your belly button." This produced a weak laugh from the class. This was cut off very short by the serious expression on her fingernails.

     Bobby Joe Joe had no other assignments in any of his other classes for the next week. So, he took the initiative and didn't postpone his work. He worked all day and night for the next week typing up this paper. It was a beautiful piece. His belly button had to have been proud of its biography. Either way, the day came for it to be turned in. It was then that Bobby hit "Save As" for the one thousand two hundred and second time. He made sure he did this to know where he saved it. Satisfied that he'd saved it on his desktop, he copied it onto his flash drive, and closed his laptop.

     He still had an hour to get to class, so like any responsible young student, he decided to run as fast as he could to get there with forty minutes to spare. He made great time. He'd completed the run from his house, next door to the school, in about twenty minutes. As usual, he waited for the bell to ring before he turned in the assignment. He usually liked to extend the amount of time it took to turn it in to ensure they might have little or no time to work on assignments during class. He just loved doing homework.

     Once the bell finished ringing, Bobby stood up, proudly holding his flash drive. He casually strolled over to the teacher's computer, was about to put it in the USB port, when his nemesis, John Smith, tackled him and smashed the drive with a sledge hammer.

     Bob looked with surprise and light amusement at the mess. "What did you expect to do here? I have this same file on my laptop." As if to show John how foolish it was to smash the flash drive, he picked up his laptop and waved it around.

     John's nostrils flared at this. Steam began to shoot out of a few tea kettles in England. With an animal-like roar, John swung his sledge hammer at Bob. Intelligent enough to know a hammer to the head might not be the best for his ACT scores, Bob successfully blocked the hammer. His joy ended with this act of self-preservation, though. His shield wasn't very tough, laptops aren't made to defend against such weapons.

     The teacher woke up from the latest clash of objects. Not caring enough to follow the trail of laptop crumbs, she instructed all students to return to their desks. Bobby, now sweating from a random cause of mental discomfort, raised his hand. As the observant adult she was, the teacher beckoned for him to speak.

     "Would it be satisfactory if I turned in the assignment a little late?" Bobby inquired, "I seem to be a victim of a series of unfortunate events."

     This obviously wasn't the inquiry the teacher expected or was ready to hear. Steam began to flow, though the tea kettles of the world were silent. Red in the blood, the teacher screamed, "No! If you do not turn in the assignment today you will fail this class, you will fail this grade, and you will fail in life!"

     Unaccustomed to bringing people such disappointment, Bobby died.


    So there you have it. If Bobby had had Drop Box, and saved it in drop box as well, he would have still been able to turn in the paper by simply logging into Drop Box on his teacher's computer and downloading it.


Click Here for a quick referral to Drop Box. If you get it through here, I would be quite happy. Don't be a Bobby, get Drop Box. It may save your life.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Randomness Intro

Randomness...that's the whole purpose of this blog. Alisa Rosner seemed in need of a bloggin buddy. So...Here I am! I'm going to basically put random stuff on here for a few days, weeks, years...however long I can remember I have it. I'll probably put my mad thoughts and contemplations. My pondering has been known to go a little far. So...if I ever threaten to kill someone important, or slaughter millions...I'm totally joking. Even to the point of running for an office to prove the opposite. I'll run for president, save millions and bring someone important back from the dead! I hope that cancels out the evil joke. You know what would suck? If for some reason my "radical" and "abnormal" views turned out to not be all that radical and abnormal. Why would that be a problem? Because I think I'd really try and run for president or emper- (coughing) Nevermind. So, Glenn Beck...He's human...or is he? Once I truly wondered that. Now I know. I am ...

Disagree with an Understanding

"I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves." - Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game When I was a teenager, my dad called me a political fanatic. I remember debating that claim until my face flushed and stars filled my vision. I sputtered about our government infringing on our rights and blathered about internet conspiracy. I argued passionately for the need of the government to be transparent to reveal the corruption hidden there. I felt like the world and its evils were against me, and I was ready to fight for what I knew was right. I've since calmed down some. I still have passion, but an LDS mission and these years of reflection and study have helped me learn a few lessons, change some ignorant views, and gain a new perspective on life and other people. This journey was personal, but what I learned along my way out of this type of fanaticism could help others escape overze...

To My Dog, Whom I Missed

Dear family, friends, and other associates for whom I have pity: Okay, I'm just kidding. I'm not writing those people! :D Today, I'm writing Daisy! Dear Daisy: I haven't heard enough from you lately. I feel that you may have forgotten me, but if that's not the case, I'm sure you're elated to be acknowledged for the first time in a few weeks. You may not understand what a baptism is, considering you're never going to have to experience one, but I thought you might perk your ears a little at the news that Saturday we were able to help two young girls, Lisa Joseph (11) and Bree Rejouis (9), partake of that ordinance. Do you remember the times I used to rub your belly? That's exactly how I've felt in this area every time the members feed us. They are some pretty good cooks in the area, and they aren't simply giving us plates to lick clean! I remember one time you said, "Ar rar rar rar ar!" I think of it ever...