Dear Spam-bots: thank you for no longer attempting to seed the comment field with ugg boots, viagretic adverts, or dating sites in Russian. I truly do appreciate that. Unfortunately, you still visit, and still try to leave a mess.
What on earth makes you think that I or any of my readers is interested in Hermes, Louis Vuitton, or Isabel Marant?
And who the hell is this Christian Louboutin?
Is he someone I should know about?
Brainsurgery for believers?
A religious sect?
If Christian Louboutin is whoring Jesus to the dunce-like masses, that does not concern me, and I don't really care. Anybody who joins his church is probably sick in the head anyway.
Same goes for Hermes, Louis Vuitton, and Isabel Marant.
Surely, dear spambots, you realize that several comments at the exact same time on the exact same posts looks shockingly suspect?
And that there is no way anbody reading about the Chofetz Chaim, what on earth a Salagubang is, or even checking out my letter box, could EVER be interested in the miserable tacky merchandise you folks are flogging?
A rabbi, a tropic beetle, and a method for contacting me privately.
That last link is mainly for friends and relatives who have lost my e-mail address, OR shy young women who have read a number of my articles and now have this romantic idea in their heads about a handsome mysterious blogger, who might be great fun to meet sometime soon, because he's witty and wise, and stinks alluringly of pipe-tobacco and jasmine tea.
I do not publish whatever is entered there (as IS mentioned), but if there is a real person at the other end, I will respond. Thoughtfully, and sincerely.
It is NOT for mercantile troll-spawn pimping boots and handbags.
Or anyone trying to convince me of Jesus' existence.
And I object to your attempting to do that.
Even as we speak, my hordes of trained zombie weasels are on their way to your basement hide-outs, where they will rip you limb from limb and verily feast upon your tiny pea-sized brains. Before setting fire to the crib and burning all your larvae.
Savage internet attack drones are hunting down all your relatives and doing unspeakable things to them with screwdrivers and other mixed beverages. Briskly efficient Philippina nurses will insert tubes into delicate parts of your diseased bodies and bloat you up. Commissars are going to torment you by shooting all your farm animals. There are voodoo priests who have effigies of you, and intend to abuse them.
Scaly aliens from Arcturus X gonna harvest your organs!
Or not.
Your comments just won't ever get published.
And no one will follow your clickable links.
I'm fairly certain that Hermes, Louis Vuitton, Isabel Marant, and Christian sodding buggery Louboutin are all products made to the lowest possible standards, enormously overpriced, and quite mind-blowingly ugly.
Worse than mediocre garbage, that no one wants.
Garish, vulgar, and compostable.
Comments welcome.
[The less you say about Jordan sneakers, the pocket pussy, and Michael Kors, the better.]
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FOG CAUSES FITS
When I woke up on Tuesday the fog was thick enough to cut it with a knife. Much much later it had disappeared. My late lunch in Chinatown wa...
2 comments:
"..shy young women who have read a number of my articles and now have this romantic idea in their heads about a handsome mysterious blogger, who might be great fun to meet sometime soon, because he's witty and wise, and stinks alluringly of pipe-tobacco and jasmine tea."
You get a lot of those?
Purely wishful thinking and irony, my friend. Purely wishful thinking and irony.
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