Who me? Are you talking to me? Are you sure?

Yeah, er, no, probably not.

And what that’s all about is the latest comment someone I don’t know made on one of my posts last week.  Someone kind.  Someone clearly confused.  Someone named Lloyd.  Who said this…

This is a really good read for me, Must admit that you are one of the best bloggers I ever saw.Thanks for posting this informative article.

Er, yeah.  Thanks?  I guess that’s the right response, right after “SRSLYWTF” that is.  Followed by “bless your heart”, because clearly he’s cray-cray.

Um hmmm, you know it.

But thank you Lloyd for your vote of confidence in my incredibly suspect skills on here.  I try.  It’s mostly coherent.  But I’m by no means the best.  Clearly my Statcounter numbers show that picture.

Clearly.

I was asked last week where I get the post ideas from.  And I think it concerned them when I replied “it’s all just swirling around in my head”.  Which means that Harold, my Mom, the dogs, the rats, Gandhi, and Harry Ashkenazi were all sharing that particular space for a few days.  Along with school, work, and life with Bob… which I chose not to include in my braindump.  Perhaps I’m the one who’s cray cray?

Perhaps.

All I know is that what happens on here is not magic.  It’s not planned.  It’s just what I feel like saying.  Whenever I feel like it needs to be said.  So I say it.  in 5000 words or less, and then it’s gone.

Like vomiting… with my fingers… in words.

You’re welcome.  Yet another visual you’ll not soon get rid of.  For free.  Take two, they’re small.

But thank you Lloyd for your kind words, and thank all of you four who read this thing… my Mom would be so proud that someone else is doing her job.  I’m nearly sure you’re not expanding your mind with this.  But it is marginally better than Faux News.  At least I’m honest… so there’s that.  But thanks for coming back.  It’s gratifying to see you all in the readership numbers.  Nobody likes to think they’re howling in the wilderness, with no one to hear them.  Well, no one other than Little Dog.  She frequently howls in the backyard.  Of course our backyard isn’t exactly what I’d call the wilderness, and Little Dog isn’t going to be mistaken for a Rhodes Scholar.  Not this week anyway, since she’s still got that annoying habit of recycling everybody’s poop into her own personal buffet.

Bless her heart.

And there’s another of those freebie mental pictures I give away like candy… again, you’re welcome.  Pro tip:  if she tries to kiss you –  JUST SAY NO.  Again, you’re welcome.

Anyway, thanks Lloyd, and thanks to all four of you regulars around here.  And thank you and good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are… which shows my love for inane and obscure trivia.  You are my village.  I am your idiot.  Are we all lucky or what?

Yeah, what.  That’s my vote.  Well, that and Lloyd.  I vote for him too.

Thanks.

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