For many years I have felt ever so slightly superior to those people who find themselves addicted to the internet. While I spend many happy hours poking around in the dark corners of the web, I have always managed to avoid obsession.
I have scorned those who cannot stop playing solitaire. I am a tad judgmental about the porn addicts (I turned down the invitation to appear on “Hetero Hampshire Hunks”, because I do not think that these sites are improving the lot of humanity). I have chided Tom about his escape into Second Life. I eschew chain mail, discussion group membership and anything that is recommended as being “hilarious”.
This morning, all of that changed. I have previously alluded to my fondness for the radio programme “I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue”.
Here for the overseas readership (A Mrs Trellis of
They are all very short, so have a good listen.
However, today I found on Facebook a user group called “I'm sorry, I haven't a clue apprieciation society”. The spelling mistake is theirs, not mine. I am hooked. They play the games online. There are something like 8000 posts on line. I have only justed started to read them all. I lolled. I lolled more than I have lolled for a long time. Repeatedly and often. I will never get away. Come in and rescue me if you dare.