Basic Maternal Instinct

This photo has nothing at to do with the following post; however, the subject matter is more pleasing than what I found on the basement computer.

“You’re kidding!” Dasad laughed, nearly dribbling coffee onto the table.  “They left it up?  On the screen?”

“No, no, no,” I said, waving my hands, as if brushing away the misconception.  “It’s what the address bar listed.  You know how when you start typing, Firefox offers a few of the popular searches from the last week? Apparently, someone’s been visiting frequently.  All I typed was a ‘H’ and the site appeared, right below Hulu.”

“What was the name again?” my friend smiled, baiting me.

“Hotmoms.com . . . or something like it.”  My friend’s squeals filled the entire cafe like a fire alarm.  If the coffee and caffeine had failed in its primary function, curiosity and Dasad’s laughter proved a jolt of adrenaline. Even the baristas stared, whispering behind the counter and consulting their watches.  Only a boy and girl continued to ignore us, racing Hotwheels across a neighboring tabletop.  I lowered my voice.

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