My Kingdom for Some Trifocals

I allowed myself a respite from work on Thursday. Such a reward was in order, if I do say so myself. Because I worked a solid four hours after lunch without a break, I took twenty minutes after school to browse the internet before finishing up my paper-grading and copy-running for the day. All work and no play makes Val a dull gal. But not dull enough to type such a thing over and over and call it a novel like Jack Torrance in The Shining.

I do not partake of the blog world at school. Google news keeps me informed of all manner of goings-on in the outside arena. I perused the headlines. That's how I obtain my vast knowledge of the drama taking place on the world stage. But it's the offbeat story that I click on to get the juicy details. Ms. Google and I gossip like next-door neighbors having a cup of coffee over the kitchen half-door.

Then I saw it. A most tantalizing headline: Woman Sickened by Furries at McDonald's Dies.

What was this all about? So many questions flooded my head as I clicked and waited for the page to load. This was serious. A death due to furries! Maybe people will think twice now about wearing those costumes out in public. Everyday people do not need to be exposed to the fetishes of the few. And to think that folks worry about a child seeing something pervy like that. Now a grown woman was so disgusted that she expired. Was she shocked at the sight, perhaps, and fainted, hitting her head on the tile floor? Did she choke on her McChicken upon spying some inappropriate hanky-panky between consenting furries? Was a deadly microbe ingested or inhaled after exposure to the unsanitary faux fur of a furry?

My page came up. Woman Sickened by Furries at McDonald's Dies. What? An eighty-year-old woman was found unconscious in the bathroom of a Georgia McDonald's after apparently inhaling furries. HUH? Oh. After apparently inhaling fumes! Well, then. That's a little different.

Never mind.