Heavens…Posted: April 15, 2011
This morning my little blog had only ever had fifteen visitors, at least eight of which were me looking at my own website in public libraries to pump up the numbers. I suspect the others were my shiftless family checking in to see if I had said anything horrible about them.
[Private note to my grandson Peter: That tattoo is the second stupidest thing Grammy has ever seen. The stupidest involves your mother, but I’m not going to go into that now. Buy some long sleeve shirts, get a haircut and find a fucking job, or Grammy’s going to call her lawyer, Mr Finkelstein, and leave all her money to the Democrats.]
My relentless blog-whoring on Balloon Juice hadn’t made those little blue visitor bars move in weeks. I even let Sadie Hepplewhite stare at the screen to see if that would work. Sadie is in room 17 across the hall, and has been convinced she has telekinetic powers over the internet ever since she wished really hard that Keyboard Cat would be popular two days before it went viral. She sat in my room all last week, glaring at the computer with her all face scrunched up, but it didn’t work. Sadie says it’s because she wore herself out making Rebecca Black a hit.
However, when I woke up this morning, there were hundreds of you all over the place.
I’m not quite sure where you’re all going to sleep. We might have to get out the blow-up beds. Make yourselves at home anyway, but don’t eat the chocolate bundt cake in the refrigerator – I’ve laced it with LSD for when Ann Coulter comes to visit on Sunday. Oh, and watch out for Marge Albrechtson – she’s in a bitey mood.
Thankyou to so many of you for the kind comments and the Facebook friend requests. I will try to reply to all of you. Forgive me if I don’t – I’ve probably forgotten or my internet privileges may have been taken away or I might be away on a little bus excursion. Life is very complex when you’re 92.
Thankyou, in particular, to a young person called ThomJeff who said lovely things about me on something called Daily Kos – although what exactly a “kos” might be I really don’t know – and to Mr Cole for putting up with me so far.
By the way, girls, John is single, kind to pets, good at naked cleaning and on a first name basis with Paul Krugman. Get him while you can.
Anyhow, it’s time for me to go and make myself pretty. Rachel Maddow is coming round for afternoon tea with Sandra and Gloria and me. I want to look my best, and I need time to work out which perfume is most likely to make her sleep with me.
I’ll speak to you soon.