You know how it is: It's Saturday, and, in your mind's eye, you're vacationing in the tropics, surfing via your motherboard, running fast along topical waves of interest in the vast internet ocean, hooked on something or other you find titanically interesting, when you strike the unexpected iceberg, snapping to a halt with a sickening lurch.
All you can manage to do is stare numbly and in shock at the screen, dead in the water, dumbstruck and adrift in your one-person lifeboat, and without so much as first aid kit, water, rations, or a flare gun. Or Dramamine.
OK, that's a bit overstated -- although I may still need the Dramamine for the drama-mine -- but I'd rather walk the plank than tell you it felt otherwise, that it was only a mild jolt grasped through the rigging and not a lightning bolt taken through the mainmast of my mouse.
Less nautically so, but more specifically: I happened upon some people's blogsites, absolutely by accident and without intent, and was exposed to the reading equivalent of the bubonic plague, leprosy, flesh-eating bacteria, or a parasitic brain infestation -- or maybe all of them, or in some berserk combination.
Good thing I only glanced here and there; had I taken in whole pages, I'd now be in the Little Rubber Bungalow, happily blowing spit-bubbles while my Thorazine (with the Vallium back) percolated its way along my arterial highways.