I have a love-hate relationship with programs designed to keep minors away from 'unsuitable content' on the web.
Wait, I take that back, it's all hate. If the programs were done in such a way that I, the parent, had actual control, that would be one thing. But I have yet to see it done well; I don't know if it even CAN be done well. They have ones where I can set it up so that naked men having a wild orgy on screen = no kid views. But at the same time, can I still set it up so that hordes of nude men just walkin' around minding their own business at a nudist colony gets the designation of: sure, why the hell not? Not as far as I can tell, and that just irks my sense of individual morality.
I believe my husband calls it 'being picky as hell unless it's exactly the way you want it.'
Yeah, I can live with that.
Although I feel I have just cause to be irritated with adult filters, especially today. The worst day of the year so far. The day my laptop, my third child who never whines although periodically throws tantrums, is in the shop. Yes, I know, horrifying, isn't it? I'd almost rather lose a limb.
Although I do have another computer I can use (okay, so there is enough computer crap in my house to choke a walrus. Two words for ya: geek husband). BUT the only computer I have access to is the one with adult filters that only my husband knows the code for...and he's away at a conference and unavailable right now. Not that he'd probably even tell me the darn thing until he was home because, well, you recall the previous posts? Computer touch of death and all that? I wasn't kidding. My husband's eye will start twitching at the thought of me even breathing on a keyboard.
Hence the reason I got one of my own and usually never touch this sucker I'm on right now.
Of course, being on here, with the kid filters, means I have NO access to my daily ration of romance and erotica. And I've now had a lovely dose of looking up things for the kids with this damn filter on. It tastes a bit like arsenic, I'm fairly sure. The recent search of choice: trying to view a page on monarch butterflies. I dare you to try and look at a site with actual pictures of actual monarch butterflies, with the kid filters on. It's a pain in the ass. Apparently, these sites are horrible for kids to view because...who knows the hell why. They mention butterfly sex? Too much explicit butterfly violence? I know that's something I worry about a lot; can't be too careful with butterfly violence. It's really prevalent in the schools these days. I hear the little fluttery bastards are getting tattoos to ID themselves to other butterfly gang members and everything. Damn butterfly hooligans. You just know they were mooning the camera on purpose.
Or, hey, maybe it's gay butterflies, because there's nothing gonna get you an R rating faster than gay anything. Well, as long as its male. Two naked women molesting the crap out of each other somehow seems to get a lower rating at times than two partially clothed men simply kissing. So, obviously, two boy butterflies gettin' it on would put the ratings up over the edge into no-kids-see-this-ever. And from the trouble I had trying to find a site the filter would let me view, this must be a pretty common image of monarch butterflies. Although maybe it's just one famous boy/boy couple in the butterfly world. They're helping the cause of gay and lesbian butterflies around the world by sneaking into the background shots when entymologists try to take their pictures (so far, I understand that bi and trans-gendered butterflies are still looking for a good advocate). More power to 'em.
No matter what the reason, though, it is simply icing on the cake of my sexless, meaningless computer time. I can't have my lovely, romantic gay and straight stories, and now I'm even deprived of the brief enjoyment of gay butterfly romance too.
Shit. Guess that means I gotta go write something if I want any chance of reading about a happy ending tonight.
The rest of you, enjoy the porn that surrounds you in all its varied and marvelous forms. Read some for the Twisted. I'll live vicariously.