The sea of knowledge and wonder ebb and flow into our home at the tapping of a key. Images, static and moving, beguile and amuse.
Well, most of the time anyway. Let's face it, disappointment can lurk in any nook or cranny of the globe.
The beautiful kauri, library ladder which I envisaged packed with freshly, laundered towels was a thing of beauty. I gazed at it in its full glory as it leant nonchalently against a well painted wall in somebody else's garden.
I bid with rapid fingers as the price went up. I was perched and pounced on the keys. The auction closed and I was the excited owner of a kauri library ladder. The intoxication of success was brief. I'd bid on the Christchurch ladder, some distance from the pubis of the city fringe where I actually dwell... soberiety rushed in because I'd thought I'd purchased the Auckland ladder. Regaining composure, I awaited my acquisition with growing anticipation. Buyers regret taking a nap in the back seat.
Arriving on my doorstep one morning before the alarm had time to despatch sleep, I was delighted at the size of the package. It was wrapped in towels and bubble paper. It was a twist of tape and twine.
Argh!
The ladder revealed was one not to be shown off to one and all in the bathroom. No, it would need to be secreted away to avoid jokes at my cyber blunder. The first pair of eyes other than my own to lock on to it, noted pragamatically that it was made of cedar, not the adored kauri and had probably never been near a book. Thanks Dad.
There have been other purchases which should've shoved this cyber bidder into more traditional shopping venues.
My favourite is the 'slightly scuffed leather chair'. Addressing the slightly scuffed would suggest the seller was either blind or a pathological liar. The chair looks as if a victim was stabbed in it but the stabber, in his irritation, missed the stabbee instead puncturing the chair with the very sharp stabbing utensil. Leather, one would assume, came from a cow which grazed on green grass and contributed flatulently to the demise of the ozone layer. The leather on my leather chair was derived from a mechanical bull.
So, what was I thinking to venture into the world of cyber dating? If jiggery-pokery-magic-ky things can happen on a piece of pita bread, why would human beings not invest in a little cyber trickery to lure and deceive? Some say that it's all in the chase, the relentless pursuit but if you turn around to find yourself in gummy-jaws below an ill-fitting toupe when you'd been lead to believe it was a toned, lion... sigh... well... maybe the real world has something to offer after all.
But the piggery-jiggery that goes on cyber dating deserves its own little window of perplexity.
Basking in the glow of my computer, the rain is drumming the window outside. Maybe it's time to see what people really do on cruise ships. A little Vitamin D wouldn't go amiss.
'Mr Google!' Something to be said about immediacy and attention spans.
Well, most of the time anyway. Let's face it, disappointment can lurk in any nook or cranny of the globe.
The beautiful kauri, library ladder which I envisaged packed with freshly, laundered towels was a thing of beauty. I gazed at it in its full glory as it leant nonchalently against a well painted wall in somebody else's garden.
I bid with rapid fingers as the price went up. I was perched and pounced on the keys. The auction closed and I was the excited owner of a kauri library ladder. The intoxication of success was brief. I'd bid on the Christchurch ladder, some distance from the pubis of the city fringe where I actually dwell... soberiety rushed in because I'd thought I'd purchased the Auckland ladder. Regaining composure, I awaited my acquisition with growing anticipation. Buyers regret taking a nap in the back seat.
Arriving on my doorstep one morning before the alarm had time to despatch sleep, I was delighted at the size of the package. It was wrapped in towels and bubble paper. It was a twist of tape and twine.
Argh!
The ladder revealed was one not to be shown off to one and all in the bathroom. No, it would need to be secreted away to avoid jokes at my cyber blunder. The first pair of eyes other than my own to lock on to it, noted pragamatically that it was made of cedar, not the adored kauri and had probably never been near a book. Thanks Dad.
There have been other purchases which should've shoved this cyber bidder into more traditional shopping venues.
My favourite is the 'slightly scuffed leather chair'. Addressing the slightly scuffed would suggest the seller was either blind or a pathological liar. The chair looks as if a victim was stabbed in it but the stabber, in his irritation, missed the stabbee instead puncturing the chair with the very sharp stabbing utensil. Leather, one would assume, came from a cow which grazed on green grass and contributed flatulently to the demise of the ozone layer. The leather on my leather chair was derived from a mechanical bull.
So, what was I thinking to venture into the world of cyber dating? If jiggery-pokery-magic-ky things can happen on a piece of pita bread, why would human beings not invest in a little cyber trickery to lure and deceive? Some say that it's all in the chase, the relentless pursuit but if you turn around to find yourself in gummy-jaws below an ill-fitting toupe when you'd been lead to believe it was a toned, lion... sigh... well... maybe the real world has something to offer after all.
But the piggery-jiggery that goes on cyber dating deserves its own little window of perplexity.
Basking in the glow of my computer, the rain is drumming the window outside. Maybe it's time to see what people really do on cruise ships. A little Vitamin D wouldn't go amiss.
'Mr Google!' Something to be said about immediacy and attention spans.
