Knitting a fish.

Well, I got my wish. Absolutely dreadful weather today. Now that I’ve got it, not so sure I want it.

Typical.

Spurred by my confinement I have been immersed in those sites that have crossword puzzles, word finds, amongst other miscellaneous web-based games. Help to pass the time. However, for some reason they felt it necessary to integrate chatrooms into the gaming screen. Some people that are home during the day have a very limited vocabulary, and are extraordinarily gullible. For my own amusement, I forayed into one of these chatrooms for the sole purpose of disturbing it’s occupants. The reason it was upsetting to my roommates is because I held a conversation with myself. Observe:

“you want some lunch?”

“Sure…you buying?”

“Nope. I’m gonna cook for you.”

“Bonus. So what’s for lunch?”

“Mouse.”

“Uh…right…umm…so what’s really for lunch?”

“What do you mean, really? I just said, we’re having mouse.”

“I’m not fond of mouse…”

“Come on…You’ll love it. Trust me.”

“Whoah whoah whoah…this, uh, mouse, is not dead…”

“Don’t worry about it. You just have to gnaw through the fur for a while first. It’ll die of blood loss eventually.”

At this point in the conversation some random, rather disturbing, seemingly teenage male interjects, “I want to sex the mouse on the floor!”

Ahem.

So I reply:

“No. No sexing the mouse.”
“There will be no mouse sexing here.”

Exactly how the word “sex” came to be a verb escapes me. I think perhaps the young man was confused. Nonetheless he persisted on continuing the conversation. He was contributing nothing; as a matter of fact I was quite displeased with the interruption of my monologue. It’s a shame. You just can’t meet quality people in chatrooms anymore.

Voulez-voulez-voulez-vous chatrooms.

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