I was up the road today to help a neighbour set up a website for her business. You'd think I knew what I was doing. Well, I knew more than her and was able to offer her a bit of assistance and load some photos and pricing and other bits and bobs.
It is wonderful to be thought of as some sort of techno genius. I am far from it, I assure you. I just know the highways and biways of the interwebz a little better than her.
Anyways, her hubbie is stretched out in his recliner at the other end of the room, exhausted, having mowed their meadow all day. He barely waves at me. He's a very good looking man with the manners of a turnip. Don't get me started.
They lost a son to brain cancer last year and I just made up my mind to be kinder than I used to be to them. Kindness doesn't cost a dime. And some need it more than others, right?
So there we are, I'm loading up some (awful) pictures to her site and I glance over at the teevee that he is nodding off to.
"Isn't that porn?" I ask her as I watch a couple contort themselves into those peculiar positions beloved by Hollywoodland - female appendages in full throttle, male's discreetly entwined in blankies. Everything hanging, banging and howling.
"Whut?" she says, barely glancing at the screen, "Oh that? Johnny needs it to go to sleep."
