Dear friends, I’m working on two separate posts. This post is neither of them. This is a housecleaning post, the kind of post I hate to post, the kind where you’re having a good time, mingling with your guests, listening to party jokes and eating excellent hors d’oeuvres, only to notice that somebody from the kegger next door has wandered onto your lawn and started puking in your birdbath. I do not like writing these any more than you like reading them, but alas, sometimes the jackassery of others makes them necessary.
Dear Others, As my boyfriend Bruce Campbell once said so famously: All right, you primitive screwheads, listen up. I do not care how well-intentioned you might be, or how good you are at pretending you read this page: If you come here by way of a Google search on a word, any word, plus the phrases “Remember my personal information” and “Notify me of follow-up comments,” I will delete your comment the instant I find it. If you post it while I’m asleep, I will delete it the instant I wake up. If you post it while I happen to be online, well, just watch my smoke. This includes you, Mr. or Ms. University of Connecticut, Storrs-Mansfield campus. I have your IP address, I have your server name, I have a whopping great brace of nerve, and I have plenty of time on my hands. Your efforts are for naught here.
Cheez Whiz. In the time I spent writing that, I could have been making barley sugar cookies. I hate it when I have to use cookie time to clean the house.