I can't figure out how that mistake could possibly happen

The company's name is Fairchild. I bet it's a .com vs. .net or .biz thing, or possibly their URL is something like fairchild-dresses.com and fairchild.com is porn. They should have checked the URL before they sent the ad out, but I can imagine situations where that wouldn't happen.

</speculation>

Edit: Oops, I misread. Fairchild is one of the magazine publishers. The dress manufacturer is Studio 17. Here's adrants.com on the subject:

While no one's talking, we're guessing the URL may have been studio17.com (a redirect to [link] which is, most assuredly, a teen porn site. Very not safe for work.

We can never, ever, ever retire.

Don't get me wrong. I am ridiculously comfortable. But when I look at my finances, I'm terrified: they depend completely on having two computer-industry salaries. Pretty fragile, that.

One tech-industry salary, and usually only for 8-12 months at a time with a 4-6 month break in between, but yeah. Right there with you.

Of course, my situation is made even weirder by the fact that there is a chance (and a fairly decent one) that I might be able to flee the tech industry, go to my dream job, AND make a comfortable amount of money. This chance is dependant on a couple of things, and being patient and playing the waiting game to find out is making me crazy (or crazier), but, the chance is there. I try and console myself with that knowledge when I wake up from another anxiety nightmare of being a cashier at Fred Meyer.

It should never have made it out of the office.

A PORN WEB SITE??? See, I can see someone (say) putting their own phone number into a catalogue, where the business phone number should be.

But a PORN URL?? That's like work. Except not work.

I can't share how much I earn. I don't know if I'm allowed to, I just can't.

Betsy, are you committed to that particular house after the kids leave the nest?

Well... that's not as far as I'd like to think it is, actually. That's a little over ten years away. By then, who knows what I'll want?

DH is a check picker-upper. Which is very generous. to stop him and BIL from argueing over that- my sister and I devised the alternating plan. no matter the cost- unless we go very extravagant.( then we split). I convinced DH not to pick up the check every time - due to exactly what other people are talking about - not everyone wants to be treated all the time. and - we can't afford it AND do other things. like remodel a bathroom. Happily, we are in a place where everyone we know seems to have just bought or are remodeling a house. And we have found some good inexpensive places to eat. and some moderate ones. and we both like to cook for people.

ptuii.. I just broke my chair.

Yeah. It's weird how some people just have no issues with letting their parents pay for stuff well into adulthood, and then there are people like me who feel vaguely mortified when Mom sends a birthday card with two $50s inside.

This kind of freaks me out, since I started paying rent toward my parents' mortage and all my own expenses at 18. I mean, I'll let them feed me occasionally because hey, parents, and do stuff that saves me money at almost no cost to them like borrow the use of their washer and dryer. But I just can't imagine being dependent on the folks as an adult barring some catastrophic illness or injury that absolutely prevents me from working.

Hey, I'm still feeling sleazy for disclosing the mortgage payment.

I don't know if I'm allowed to, I just can't.

I'm picturing you with an evil hand syndrome. You start to answer and your hand lunges menacingly at your throat.

I'm still feeling sleazy for disclosing the mortgage payment.

Don't think I'm not judging you, you shameless woman.

My brain is refusing the information, with lots of harsh whispering like, "Cindy, that is NOT your business."

Huh. None of it sticks in my brain because it's all so irrelevant to me. I mean, what do I care what someone in a different industry, in a different part of the country, with a different background, makes or pays? So I go "huh," and then free up the brainspace.