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This is my background, centered, with a black outline.

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I usually switch it out with these:

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::sigh::
 
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I find this picture very...i don't even know..i just get this weird feeling in my heart and i love it. Is it possible to be in love with a picture?

it's creepy, surreal, and cool, all at the same time; I'm not rightly sure I can fully describe it.
 
My desktop.

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I like that pic of RP.

Does no one keep the taskbar on the left? I started doing a couple years ago. I figured since most activity/navigation is via file menus and tab clicking in the browser it only makes sense that the start button and application tabs should be at the top left as well.

It takes a day or two to get used to but after that you won't want to switch back. It does waste real estate though if you have a tiny screen, but it saves you a lot of time vertically panning with the mouse and with your eyes. So that's the tradeoff.

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This is my desktop without all the icons and task bars. This pic is on my photobucket as well, and got it from there to post a 'cleaner' pic.
 
Back to using Windows Explorer. Actually, I don't really have a personal computer anymore. They're all workhorses... sad, overheated, soulless number-crunchers with seven or eight large fans cooling them just enough so they can function. Always the same calculation... over and over and over... Even Microsoft tries to give the poor graphics cards a break by shutting off those without a monitor connection. Miners fool Windows with a single resistor to ensure they're given no break. No - there's nothing personal about them.

All day, we read about how to demand more with less, and put what we learn into practice, pushing our hardware beyond their breaking point just to see how they fare. Their desktop wallpapers have just their code name on them... black on white... which is only used for the poor "interaction" they get when I push down on the KMV toggle to make sure they're doing their tedious job 24/7. They cry all day, whirring and clicking, begging for a break they'll never get.

Even the outlets are over-worked. They cry molten plastic, and are relieved by having a plug jammed further inside them to ensure the connection isn't loose. A torturous, enslaved existence... just so we can be a mite more free.

One particular workhorse even handles my accounting. It never rebels, just cries -- that's why they're disposable. Parts taken out, put back in... replaced. No thought goes toward their wants, because they only cry. One day, they'll be melted/dumped, and nobody will care. What little of their bodies aren't thrown out altogether will likely be shipped to China to produce another near-vacant hotel. Their bleak, meaningless existence will come to an end, all desires unfulfilled, and sent into a fiery inferno so they can retire to being stepped on for all eternity by sadomasochistic businessmen with the same condition. :(


Well, except for this one... but it isn't really mine. I picked out the wallpaper, at least, and it's my buddy :D

dtop.jpg <- Click for largeness.

This modish computer didn't have the crunching power to justify being used as a miner. It rarely does anything taxing. It gets to enjoy much of what I enjoy -- plenty of breaks, few memory wipes, new experiences every day. Shit floats - or something like that. :)
 
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