The Big V

I have so many lovely things to show you -- the baby sweater is done, dad's socks are 48 cm.'s underway, my Rowan 38 shrug is shrugging along - but you can't see them. Why? you ask, as you tilt your head and wonder if I've again lost my digital camera. No, no silly. I may have given away a lot of stuff this summer (the digital camera I lost before I left for Switzerland, the cellphone that was "borrowed" in Switzerland, the cellphone that fell down the toilet), but no, this time we have Trouble, with a capital T that rhymes with V that stands for VIRUS. Within five seconds, my hard drive was corrupted - the first big step on the road to the depths of degreda- medicinal wine from a teaspoon? then beer from a bottle? No, not having updated spyware. And the next thing you know, masteria! Friends, the idle brain is the devil's playground - how could I be so stupid to let my harddrive go condomless? And we're talking terrible trouble - pornography, gambling, cigarettes on my harddrive - not just tryin' out Bevo, tryin' out Cubebs, tryin' out tailor-mades like cigarette fiends and braggin' all about how they're gonna cover up a tell-tale breath with Sen-Sen - on no! It's terrible Trouble, right here in Knitcity. I have icons on my harddrive that read "Blow Job," "Group Sex" "Gambling Hall," "Cheap Cigarettes." Libertine men and scarlet women and ragtime. Shameless music that'll grab your son, your daughter into the arms of a jungle animal instinct-massteria!

I am on the road to reformation - I should be up and running at home around Thursday thanks to the guys at Rescuecom, who saved my documents/pics/music from my harddrive and are building me a new computer. And, no pick a little, talk a little, cheap cheap cheap - it will be fully protected with the latest spyware/virus protection.

So there will be no poolhall in KnitCity - by Thursday, a cleaned up, uncluttered, virus free hardrive - no Bevos, Cubebs, or Sen-Sen - but, well, maybe just a little bit of degredation . . .