Man, I still die laughing every time I see that one!

In other words, screw the post about the opera for now, lets have some fun!

(Sorry, it’s my Russian blood and this tasty vodka running the show tonight. Whee!)

Ah yes, internet porn, let us count the ways...whew! Now look folks, there's nothing wrong with a little cerebral candy now and then, and if there is someone out there who says "I've never!" what you are most likely really saying is "#%#*&# dial-up!!!"

Now, as a writer, I have the excuse of saying I’m only "doing research."

And as good old Coln. Potter was won't to say: "Bull-pucky!"

Now I’ve a secret to tell, and this is for the guys out there. It’s one of those things your wives know...no, I’m not talking about how to set the clock on the DVD player, I mean come on, that would be going too far, leave us something.

No, what I’m going to tell you (and what could really get me into some hot water with the female readers) is this:

Most computer windows and media players start up with the last item watched, loaded and ready to play.

Now don’t panic! Take a deep breath, ‘cause like I said, your wife already knows.

Girlfriends now, that is another subject entirely. Mainly because the two of you aren’t committed up solid yet, and if your girlfriend knew, be assured she would let you know it! And how, whew!

See, that’s the difference between a new and long-standing relationship. A wife, knowing you, isn’t bothered much, but a girlfriend, knowing something like that will have doubts. First thing she’ll think is that you aren’t trustworthy because your eyes are surfing. She’ll think “Hey, I am here so he shouldn’t need anything else!”

Bull-pucky.

Then she’ll be all hurt and junk, feeling insecure, lacking...all sorts of foolishness. So there, guys, you have been warned. Cheers.

Now, being a “wife” I’m going to tell you a little story.

Being an adult, I know all about the internet, and being far more affluent in computer things, (Emile still has trouble with copying and pasting, needs me to start up and save new word documents for him fer cryin’ out loud...) I know there are times at the end of the day when he sits down in the main computer room and surfs. Side note: It’s quite interesting the things you can find out about someone by checking the computer’s browser history and, of course, opening the media players. Teehee!

So then, with complete understanding, whenever I go downstairs (where office is located) while I’m walking in or getting closer I’ll usually announce my presence somehow, in order to give him time to shrink or switch screens.

Only there was this one time where he just didn’t here me coming...

My gods, the expression on his face! Priceless, and to this day I wish I’d had a camera ready to go, it was that great!

Oh, poor Emile, caught and but good. (No, he wasn’t doing anything but looking, I promise.) There he was, sitting in his chair, turned to face the opening door, frozen with a look on his face, a smiling rictus grin, while his hand is on the mouse button, clicking away for all he was worth trying to close down all the open windows. Must have been at it a long while, because there was a hell of a lot of them.

Dead silence except for the sound of “Click, click, click, click!” for a good long minute. Think he was running on autopilot at The Moment.

Of course I had to assure him it was fine and that yes, I knew. I even said, “Why do you think I always make so much noise when coming down here?”

He goes, “I’d always wondered about that.”

Is he just the sweetest thing or what? Hehe.

Well, we had a good laugh, me laughing MUCH louder and longer than he was, and to this day, whenever I want to see him go goofy-grin and blush, all I have to do is say: “Click, click, click, click!” and he gets it every single time. (Yeah, that memory is burned in real good. LOL!)

But the best times are when we are in a crowd, say, at a gallery reception and I’ve had a couple glasses of wine and out of the blue go: “Click, click, click, click!”

Emile’s reactions then are indeed gratifying, and, knowing me and the fact that I am completely capable of anything, he will say:

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

And I will admit I’ve never told this tale to anyone (tempted like hell though, you betcha!) I figure what’s wrong with writing it down in my journal, eh?

Still, if anyone comes up to Emile and goes: “Click, click, click, click!” within the next couple of months, while things are so stressed still, I’ll be a bit upset myself, so have your laugh, but hold off, okay?

Thanks, we both appreciate it.

And on that note, though one really could roll with the subject, I’m going to stop here. Hope you had a good laugh as much as I have.

Cheers and nighters, folks,

Melissa