It has come to my attention that a certain DEA agent has suggested that his readers should, only as a favor to him — not because, say, they might enjoy it or anything — start reading my blog.
It might surprise a certain DEA agent that I already have PLENTY of readers, thank you very much, several of whom have gone out of their way to compliment me on my fascinating take on fashion, history and current events. And one disturbed gentleman who thinks I require professional psychiatric attention. I believe he is what we bloggers call an ogre, and I consider it an honor that he’s decided to camp out underneath my particular cyber bridge. (Or maybe he’s a goblin? Anyway, it’s one of those weird bumpy things from that Hobbit movie. Orca?)
Of course, I would NEVER suggest that my readers waste their time reading the beer-related ramblings of my husband Hank, unless they want to discover how a single bowl of chili can generate both a small fortune in dry cleaning bills and a lingering atmospheric situation that overwhelms two plug-in fresheners and an entire can of Lavender Misty Breeze room scent. And no, Hank, I don’t see what’s so funny about that, and it’s certainly nothing to be proud of.
But if that’s your cup of three bean con carne, then by all means, enjoy.Read More