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George was aghast at the terrible, near-tragic results of Julia's feeble attempts at Web authoring. Her efforts were heroic but misguided, throttled as she was by lack of even the most rudimentary design tools. George reflected back to the crude Web pages the mountain people had shown him during his last antrhopological expedition, produced with nothing more than a mud slate, a stick, and a 486 with 4 MB of RAM. But even those were superior to Julia's crude results.
"Julia, Julia," George entreated. "When are you going to start making your life easier and learning to use real software like Microsoft FrontPage?"
"Get real, George," complained his wife Eunice. "What do you expect from a pet turtle?"