Never would you have pictured yourself stepping out of the queue at the border hut and repairing to the fetid
outhouse behind it, for the privacy that would allow you to secrete those bills in warm places between skin and bra, skin and panties, where a guard was unlikely to reach.
Whether because Apple preferred to market them as creative computing powerhouses or because their alumnium shells could cook eggs after a heavy graphics session, the lowly Mac spent much of its youth in the gaming
outhouse, suffering with years -
behind releases and sub-par ports.