thinglets: bacon

A casual flirtation with the wireless mouse incites drop-down menus and radial buttons and pop-up advertisements about male enhancements while I ponder an inexhaustible list of options upon choices upon combinations made even more exasperating by the 56"-inch television that's insisting upon a choice between a sappy police drama or the PIP baseball game that's going to the seventh-inning stretch when I finally punch the send button and am devastated twenty minutes later when my large pizza has bacon instead of Italian sausage.