Ode to the CPU

As I sit upon your vast heated expanse, I am reminded of a poem...


I hope you're writing this down.


Oh gloriously warm and comfy CPU, how I love you.
You are the bestest kitteh bed ever for you are forbidden.
And Warm.
And so close to Mom.
And Forbidden.
And you hum the hum of the warm snugglie kitteh faerie.
Scrunched in between wall and furniture -- perfection!
And you are... Forbidden.
So close to Mom, yet safe with so many dangly cords
She can't grab or chase or dare disturb.
And so Warm.
Just a touch and I have her attention.
And did I mention you are forbidden?


Is there anything better in life than doing something wrong and getting away with it?

Not if it involves sleep...