New bloggers out there: Choose your blog name carefully. You may never live it down.
Recently I have been reminded, more than once, and in no uncertain terms, that I am a bitch. This doesn’t do dogs any favours. Still. One aims to please.
So here goes for all those mimosas out there – and wilt at your own speed.
Dearest (Mimosas – as in “flower”), if you knew how much pleasure you give me measuring the rather thin of your assorted hides, your pouting, your sulking, your insults, how much you make me laugh, you’d be whining and whinging even more than you are prone to already.
There was one rather sweet example the other day of someone’s rant (left on an other’s blog) how she (yes, it is a she, they usually are) doesn’t like whiners and whingers. She then proceeds to whine and whinge. Cute. And before you point the finger at yourself. Don’t. There is more than one of you.
In fact so cute I’d like to take people like that by their hand and show them the way out of the woods.
The more fragile among male bloggers? Bad manners. No argument has ever been won by telling me …
Let’s cut to the chase. Intelligent debate is not fertilized by those who weed anything they don’t like to hear. That’s where a gardener fails at the first hurdle. Shoot the grey squirrel digging up your bulbs but contemplate whether what you consider to be a weed, and therefore irritating, is undesirable. By way of example: Nettles sting. You have two options. You put on gloves, pull the nettles and make them into tea or compost OR cry at your initial blisters.
Need a handkerchief, nay, a tissue to wipe your tears of indignation? Look no further. You may cut me off. I am here. Always ready to engage. Even with the ninnies and the most delicate of divas in blogging land.
Hugs, hisses and kisses,