Delightful people with a little too much time on their hands
Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.
Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?
Maybe so, but if you remember, this isn't the first (or even the second) time this has happened to you. Think back a year or so. Seems par for the course to me.
Perhaps there's nothing interesting to see at the moment.
This tells me several things - that I describe in far too much detail the minutiae of a very dull life and that I have been falling apart for quite some time among them.
I am sunk into misery.
If it was either too dull or too detailed, do you think that we all would keep coming back? You're a national treasure, z, falling apart notwithstanding.
and ps, it's possible dave could be right.
Then I think I'll change my name to Sutton, so that people can say "Sutton Who?" and we'd all chortle like mad (except people who've never heard of Sutton Hoo of course, on whom the joke would fall flat). And Dave is very often right, don't you think? And thank you, dear heart. You always think of the most charming thing to say.
Post a Comment