Mother's Love XVII

Hmm.

I suppose all of you know I'm an avid blogger, and that news of blogs surfacing rapidly all over the world has been coming up now and again. So should it come as a surprise that last night, my worldly-wise mother decided to call me from downstairs and make me remove myself from my computer and go and 'eat fruit':

Mother: '(my name), come, eat fruit'

Crawldaddy: 'Argh'

M: 'I want to ask you... what is a blog arh?'

C: '????' (I was trying to "Tah Bodoh")

M: 'You know the newspaper recently came up with news about "blorks" arh, what are they?'

C: (mouth full of apple) 'Erhh, shtuff peepurl put on the indernet lorh'

M: 'but how does it work?'

By now I knew there was no escaping her clutches of making me stick downstairs and making sure I stuff my face full of fruit before I remove myself from her sight.

C: (swallows) 'Ok, I have a blog of my own'

M: 'REALLY??? Tell me how it works!!!'

By now I knew that I would never, ever escape from people with the 'zelda' syndrome*... because my mother was one of them.

*For more information on the 'zelda' syndrome, kindly go to this blog's archives and search for any posts titled 'The Legends Of Zelda' and you will be able to finally realise why Zelda makes me shudder so.

C: 'Yah.'

M: 'Ok! Later you are going to tell me how to create a blog. I'm going to be a BLOGGER!!!'.

Sigh.

I knew since the day I started spending more time online, my mother keeps thinking I surf porn am talking to strangers. Since then she has incessantly demanded reasons for my high internet usage. Truth is... I'm just sitting there, talking to my pals on msn and surfing porn playing spider solitaire while doing so.

Heheehe... nah.

I usually update myself with online newspapers and I also visit other bloggers' blogs, search for song lyrics... guitar song sheets etc.

Later last night, I had finished off my stuff online, and just at that moment, my mother came up into the loft and (sublty) demanded I teach her how to create a blog.

M: 'Why you everytime I come, you want to go away har?'

C: 'Psychological barrier'


Cheers,

Crawldaddy