|Fisher-Price version of Petard. Note- The Prude does not have an orange beard.|
Yesterday the groundwork was laid to plant the story for today.
Remember the groundwork, composed of all the dirt and filth that pours from every crack and crevice of daily life?
How The Prude planted seeds of curiosity when she referred to her solution in the Past Tense?
Today she'll describe the short solution–growing season and how she had to yank it out by the roots.
(The Prude can’t continue the farming/harvest analogy. It’s exhausting.)
The Prude can do little about vulgar commercials during the Big Game, and nothing about the suggestive magazine covers at the check out.
But she was tired of the offensive assault from her own computer.
So a son installed a Web Protection Program to guard her from ribald words and racy images.
To avoid lawsuits, we’ll call the Wed Protector ‘Spike’.
Spike would be tireless in protecting her from bawdy images and lewd language.
The first day Spike took up residence The Prude, full of confidence and clean living, searched for an image of Popeye. Spike leapt from his kennel barking viciously and Popeye refused to make an appearance.
The next day The Prude attempted to find recipes for chicken chestal regions. All Spike had to do was growl and the chickens grabbed their chests and their recipes and flapped away in agitation.
Day Three, and Prude cautiously approached the computer. Spike growled amiably. Encouraged, Prude sidled into her seat and typed in ‘1950’s bathrooms’. Spike hit the ground running and any notion The Prude had to look at innocent bathroom pictures from the innocent ‘50’s was flushed away.
Your Prude, while frustrated, saw a bright side. Spike gave her an idea for a post! She felt a twinge of affection. She would write about the trials of working with such a dedicated Prude Protector as Spike.
She would call it ‘Hoist with her Own Petard’
As you know, The Prude loves to add images to her posts. Anything to make them tempting. In the interests of adding educational value, she would show a petard.
And what, dear friends, do you think happened when The Prude searched for an image of a ‘petard’?
Did you guess that all Spike had to do was snarl slightly in his throat and the Petard, a weapon of widespread destruction in the Middle Ages, took its cowardly self and its namby-pamby cannonball and took off for parts unknown?
Leaving The Prude scrabbling in the toybox to find something that looked petard-ish?
And finally, is anyone in the market for a slightly used Spike?