I’ve kept a diary every day since I was eight years old. They will get my diaries when they pry them from my cold, dead hands.
Fingers. Definitely my fingers.
My collection of Chinese fingertraps.
My trackball, unless somebody comes up with an implantable computer pointing device.
I’m a man of simple tastes… so, Nova.
My C Band satellite dish.
My 16 dead pool points from Charlton Heston.
My Dwarf-crafted, Elven-reforged, rune-engraved mythic longsword, Anduril. Duh.
The throats of my enemies.
Nothing I can say in polite company.
My CD collection. I may be a technological dinosaur, but I’m an audiophile dinosaur.
My DVR. In fact, I’ve said that exact sentence within the last few months.
My slowly growing Hello Kitty collection and my still growing Def Leppard memorabilia collection.
And my sketchbooks.
Came in just to make this joke.
Def Leppard and Hello Kitty? What a combination. I think my head’s going to explode.
My wedding ring.
My grandmother’s engagement ring, the silver hand mirror that belonged to HER grandmother, and my collection of Star Wars books. Pretty much all of my books, in fact.
And yes, before some wag says it, my computer.