Sunday, 23 March 2014

Look... I don't do trading...


The nearest I get, is to idly perusing
the pink paper on a Saturday.
Then I only look at the pictures,
even the lovely Robin Lane Fox
is so up his own hoe I get irritated.
A male Maggie Thatcher does a little light
preaching on the merits of the joys of gardening.
Or put another way instructing the gardeners 
as to his wishes. 

Keeping this in mind...
you can imagine me falling off
my new dfs sofa on reading that one 
of my posts got 41 comments...
Yes you read it right
Forty one comments!

Now hold tight, I'm going for the sympathy vote here:
this is me of 51 faithful followers
of whom just a very loyal few, comment.
I read with envy other peoples' blogs
who have squillons of followers and
trillions of comments.
It's not that I'm envious, mind!

This morning looking at my stats
my post on Lettice's death...
('Dad always said...'
12 October 2013)
 flagged up 
all these comments.
I discovered on looking that I've been
or put another way

Now I do realise that I must come across
as a bright forward thinking intelligent
member of the human race... but still?
(Biggest fib ever)
Why me?
And why at my pain at losing my much loved
little faithful friend?

Now Forex followers of the world,
I openly admit I'm cringingly grateful for comments
XXXX off!
Go back to you charts and candles and
may I suggest you Quantitatively Ease them up your
not lit naturally!


  1. Just had a look Linda - how rotten. As if we needed more reminders of how crap life and people can be!
    Chins up!

    1. I wouldn't mind Nilly if they'd stuck it on any other of the twaddle posts I write. This one... No!

      'Chins up!' the chuckle made the chins wobble, then progressed through the matronly bosoms, developing into a huge belly laugh... then down and out!

      Story of my life in a sentence.


  2. I have the same problem Linda, only on one post. The exact same people once a fortnight roughly. I have googled how to block their comments. I just delete them permanently as soon as I see the e.mail - bloomin cheek.

    1. Why do they do it? Surely nothing good comes of it for them?

      Nowt so queer as folk, 'cept me and thee Jayne!