It’s only in the past few months that I’ve started enjoying stumbling.  Until then it’d been something I’d associated with my inability to hold alcohol due to my fragile half-Asian genes.  Before turning 18 and discovering cider, I blamed it on being roughly three-feet tall and as physically unbalanced as the emotions of a menopausal housewife with a bottle of red watching Days of Our Lives re-runs.

But I stumbled (clever pun) across a new form of stumbling at uni last semester.  As assignment deadlines approach there’s really only one thing on the mind: procrastination. Countless hours are spent scouring the net and sending inane links between peers to see who’s working hardest at not working.

And boy did we find a winner with StumbleUpon.

It’s a site that combs the web for you — linking you to the quirky little site-types you’re after, destroying your potential future and fulfilling all your dirty procrastination fantasies with the click of the “Stumble” button.

Aptly named, the process can be likened to walking through the city (well, any city that isn’t Perth), venturing down an unknown laneway and discovering a shop you’d never come across.  It’s pleasant, you “like” it enough to visit again sometime.  Then you do it again with a different alley.  And again.  And you’ll do it hundreds of times over until your city is  so cluttered by little laneways that there’s no room for civilisation any more and you become a hermit in your own little world of anti-social stumbling fun.

The best part is that you can customise your account’s categories, choosing from up to 500 topics.  This means that when you’re joyfully skipping around Analogy City, you won’t come across Freedom McRainbow’s boiled mung bean and organic dirt juice stall when you have a hankering for a slab of still-mooing porterhouse.   You can select topics such as “humour” or “music” and take out “dentistry” and “ergonomics” …  unless that’s your thing then, by all means, go ergonomic-denture crazy.

Let’s give it a test run.

Stumble 1:  took me here. And it’s true.  I heard librarians are the new Clooney.

Stumble 2:  took me here. Informative and necessary. You never know when a zombie apocalypse will occur. Hit up Bunnings for defence goods. Lowest prices really are just the beginning when you’re approached by the half-masticated faces of the undead on your Saturday morning stroll.

Stumble 3:  took me here. Delicious, nutritious and furthering the procrastination-snack plight. Genius.

See? Internet brilliance.

Disclaimer:  I take no responsibility for click-addiction. The initial dabble soon turns to a cheeky “oh just one more!” and before you know it you’re stumbling home from the pub on your iPhone.

Peter Fray

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