I am a slave to my computer.
It honks at me, I plug in its umbilical. It runs out of paper, I feed it. It refuses to print, I buy it a new cartridge. It blows its top, I weep and comfort it with a replacement hard drive.
I use it to keep up with the news, to research any little item about which I am curious, to communicate with friends and family, to compose poetry, short stories, and wonderful novels.
And occasionally I lend it to Fiorella Plum to keep you entertained.