Don't go gently into that good night

Here I am, on Hubby's computer stealing company internet to do my blogging, while I really should be finding porn sites to surf to create that little bit of excitement that would make the day of any bespeckled IT professional monitoring the current traffic. 

And speaking of porn, guess what I've been doing with all this analog time in my hands?

Indeed.

Crocheting. What else?

How exactly is crocheting linked to porn? you might be asking yourself right now (I still am, and will just come up with some potentially offensive nonsense now). Well, the connection is not instantly transparent, but this is how I see it:

You wade through leather boots, whips, giant diapers, ropes and such and find yourself just south of the fringe. Then, you proceed at a high speed, for about a couple hundred miles away from the center, you take a left at animal costumes, after which you continue down the road towards a little corner referred to as sheep, you skirt around pee and poo, and then take a leap, and voila, you're at crochet. And there's no way back.

Exactly. Potentially offensive nonsense.

Lucky for you my dear readers, links like this come up when you are left alone with your thoughts for a whole day, and the only discussion you have in the span of nine hours goes like this:

Maid: Whar is the mot?

Me: Do I have what?

Maid: Noh, the mot?

Me: More?

Maid: Noh, the mot?

Me: More? What?

Maid: MOT!

Me: WHAT?!?!

Maid: I want to eyen.

Me: What?!?!

Maid: EYEN!

Me: Please clean the patio furniture. Thanks!

And this is only day one without internet. Yup.