The employee at Mexican fast-food places (Taco Bell, Red Burrito, etc.) that works 8-hour shifts bending corn tortillas into a taco shape. It is one of the lowest positions available. This job does not pay well.
Not to be confused with a taco bender, which is inviting a bunch of friends over, doing way too many tacos, and waking up with a raging taco hangover.
Tim: "I got that job over at Jack-in-the-Box I was talking about!"
Tim: "Yeah, I nailed the interview! I start tomorrow."
Jim: "What position is it? Assistant Manager? Human Resources guy?"
Someone's who's electronically challenged, and always relies on the local "computer expert" (you) to help them attach files to e-mails or download hentai. E-tards tend to be over 40 and have not once considered Googling their problem, due to the fact they might hurt themselves if they try.
They only understand your instructions after you simplify them at least three times, and never remember the names of anything related to computers. They only understand what the Start Menu is if you tell the it's "the little green button in the bottom-left corner that says Start". It is physically impossible for them to memorize and recall processes with more than three steps. Trying to help an e-tard do something more complicated than locate a file plays out like an Abbott and Costello routine from hell.
Over 95% of all e-tards use Windows (typically XP or Vista). This is due to the fact that when they bought their first computer, they didn't feel like overspending on something they wouldn't use. It's kind of ironic, since it'd probably easier for them to use a Mac (simpler design, sexy graphics everywhere).
However, the e-tard is not a creature to be hated for their ignorance, but pitied, and even sympathized with. Because, in about 30 years, when cyborgs take over the MindNet and you can't remember how to log off, you are going to be so fucked.
A typical exchange with the most common e-tard: your mother:
Your mom: Honey, how do I log out of your father's account?
You: Start Menu, click Log Off.
Your mom: Where's the Start Menu?
You: Click the Start Button.
Your mom: Where's that?
You: Bottom-left corner. It says start.
Your mom: Okay. Now what?
You: Click Log Off.
Your mom: Where's that?
You: *sigh* Lemme show you.
At this point, you walk over and log off for h-what the fuck? Did your dad really save goat porn to his desktop? Jesus Christ. How did he even find that without your help? And the filename is "goatporn_02". Subtle.