My computer likes collecting these things; these cursed, little wayward, popup screens. I try not to feed them, but they just grow, taking over my monitor with nothing to show but the same weary ad I'll never buy, cause I'm too busy clicking right past, that's why.
Now everyone needs a hobby, I guess. I just wish my computer would give it a rest. Banner's and ad's are all right in their place, but these pesky popups get right in my face.
My kid think's it's the latest computer game, shooting popup's down before my computer goes lame and crashes on me, as I try to read my favorite author's latest entry.
"I got 41" he shouts in my ear, while stealing my mouse for up to a year. I smile and nod, as good parents should, maybe I oughta pay TS for childcare before its goose is cooked.
I'd gladly pay for a favorite authors ebook, pay to subscribe to them, cause I'm hooked. Pay for an anthology put in email for a fee, I'd even pay to download some if they agreed. I'd pay to find out where their own site is, pay a years subscription to TS, just for kicks. I sigh in despair, as my son clicks another popup into thin air "Oh for the days when reloading made TS not even there."
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