Sunday, April 21, 2019

RUSSIAN WORDS OF COMFORT

The flu nixed my plans for Easter. Day off, spot of light laundry, then down to Chinatown for a late breakfast and a smoke. No. Got up early, felt thoroughly miserable, went back to bed. Slept over seven hours since this morning. No energy, aches and chills. Finally fixed myself a light snack, because a man has to eat. Asparagus and egg toast.

Whenever I visited my spam folder, it was filled. Dumped over three hundred obvious spam comments. For which I am blaming the Russians, of course. Though why they would want to subvert this blog site is a mystery.

There is no Lesby scat here.

No Czarist secret agenda.

No Wordpress or plug-ins.

No, there is no twitter feed.

No Chelten-buggery-ham.

But someone wants there to be, and is stepping up to offer it.


I feel like death warmed over, didn't enjoy my extra day off at all, and some Slavic turdbot wants to seed my site with scatology and Cheltenham.


Go away, Igor.




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