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That's funny because they're not really the B-52s, you see. Haw!
But I love these little guys too much to part with them, so I let Pip use her own dang flash drives.
Typically, they just sit there on my computer dashboard thing, looking at me with their funny little faces. Sometimes, when I get nervous or anxious, I pick one up, place it between my index finger and thumb and rub the heck out of it. As if it were a worry stone, or something.
Poor little pizzahead guy over there on the left has lost a bit of his head. My bad, poor little pizzahead guy.
John Atkinson came into my office one day recently, noticed my MIMOBOTS and asked:
"Why do you have the B-52s on your computer?"
This reminds me of something I saw at Freud House in London, where Sigmund Freud spent the last three years of his life. All his stuff is there, his books, his desk, the original psychiatric couch. It's an amazing room -- you can really feel his presence there. And there is a little row of pre-Columbian figurines that he used to play with when he was with a patient. Your flash drives reminded me of that. I'll leave the interpretation to you.