Bitch on the Blog

July 21, 2018

Authenticity

Every so often I do remember my blog’s name and that I have to honour it. And do a bit of bitching.

Yes, so there is someone in blogland (no blog of her own) who regularly and frequently leaves comments on blogs which we both frequent.

However, and I am annoyed with myself, she is beginning to get on my nerves big time. To understand – the few blogs I do follow I always read all comments,  in detail.

Why is she beginning to get on my nerves?

I tell you why: It’s one thing to be human – foibles, tempers (good and all), being misguided, argumentative, under the weather either temporarily or permanently, whatever. It’s another to be saccharine to the point of dripping. That woman is incredible. If I were her I’d encourage myself to become a professional condolence letter writer. She is so CONSISTENTLY “sweet” it borders on insincere. I don’t like insincere.

I have “known” her for, say, a couple of years now and started imagining her life. I can’t give away her locality – let’s just say I can see her wafting through the wines, no, not daisy waving; an illusion of herself. I can see her being the saint of her, possibly and most likely vocal if faintly bored, family. What I mostly see is her weaving her sugar net of constant and indiscriminate approval of others (and thereby, by implication, approval of her in return). Everything any blogger does or says she approves of, not only lavishing praise but piling it on. It’s almost fraudulent.

Sweetheart, life doesn’t work like that. If you want people to take you seriously then the odd questioning or not agreeing with a blogging friend would add greatly to your credibility. The odd jarring note.  A bit of critical distance. Not everything someone does or says is laudable. If any of my friends (blog or other) and family would be as approving of everything I do, say or cook as you appear to be of others I’d run screaming to the hills. I’d think they were taking the piss.

Still, in your defense – and it really really really wasn’t “nice” what you said there a day or so ago – who’d have thought it you had it in you; in a sort of underhand way you left a comment, somewhere, which makes you the bigot I thought you were all along. Yes, yes, sweet …… and what do you know … condemning a whole demographic group. Can’t say I enjoyed your (gentle – naturally)  malicious thought. Prefer your saccharine. As cloying as it is.

And before any of my readers do an “Iris” (what’s happened to the oracle?)  and tell me who I am referring to: Don’t. Because if you identify her she is guilty as charged.

U

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June 27, 2018

The Sculptor – One

I quote a useful reminder to myself:

“It is a bad allocation of intelligence, resources and money.”

Let’s leave money out of it since I haven’t spent any. The resource, badly allocated, is my time. Maybe even emotion better allocated to those who can read a heart. Intelligence? Well, I don’t mind throwing it about with abandon. It’s an infinite resource. Time isn’t. So, I’ll waste a bit more and then lay some wasters to rest.

Yes, we are back to the Alternative Comment Box.

Where to start the narrative since there are so many options? My mental health? So generously speculated about by one Sculptor, and one John who only a couple of days ago advocated that mental health should NOT bear stigma. My question why “mental health” is then, so often, all over blogland, is used as an insult, a personal attack, a way of shaming someone into shutting up? Naturally, no answer was forthcoming. It happens when people run out of rhyme and reason to justify their limitations. And I quote the Sculptor aka Tom:

“John. Why do you tolerate that ghastly woman Ursula? Because she has mental issues you think you can help with?”

No, let’s start somewhere else to make the narrative a little more tense.

I question a commentator on the Sculptor’s blog. It’s, as far as I know, an elderly lady – though why I even mention that I don’t know. Mitigating circumstances?

Sa(i)d old lady, let’s call her J, wishes some wastrels dead. So I reply

“How charitable to wish on anyone “being hit by a bus”. I suppose you are also in favour of the death penalty, wish Trump dead whilst priding yourself on your Christian “values”, ethics and morals. I take it you are American?”

This made me, on two blogs, not only “that disgusting woman” but also “that ghastly woman” (don’t say the Sculptor doesn’t use his Thesaurus to vary his disgust at me).

John who took Tom’s batton (always doing the Svengali’s bidding) says that “J is one of life’s sweet people….everyone knows that”.

To which I replied:

“Yes, John, Joanne may be one of life’s sweet people. However, even the sweetest can, occasionally, put a foot wrong, are not above criticism.

I didn’t “attack” Joanne. I thought her comment out of order. You can’t go round wishing for people to die. Sorry, but that’s way off my moral compass. And I said so.

As to “bitter and personal ATTACKS” [Tom accuses me of] – well, Tom, you are the expert. And when you can’t think of anything else to admonish me with you resort to questioning my mental health. Truly inspired as reasoning goes.

Greetings from that “disgusting” woman,
U”

And before you ask: Yes, my comment was deleted. Again. Tom’s calling me disgusting was let to be stand. Yes, Sweethearts, that’s the justice of this world, that’s balance, fairness.

So I am disgusting and off my trolley because I question a sweet old lady calling for someone to die in revenge for the poor Sculptor having to do his sculpting in a metal container in the middle of a UK heat wave (!). That’s right. Let them swing for it. Mind you, having said that, a friend of mine (American), also a very sweet Lady albeit not an old one, also wishes someone dead (Trump). Maybe that’s how it’s done in the States. Hang them. Shoot them. Take a short cut.

To be continued …

U

February 27, 2014

Litmus Test

Filed under: Atmosphere — bitchontheblog @ 20:06
Tags:

Some years ago (not that many) a fine specimen of a woman told me she ‘knew’ people. Who would break my legs.

Having watched all episodes of “The Godfather” I didn’t so much as believe her but did weigh the risks. People will do crazy shit over nothing. And I don’t even own a horse.

My point being? My point being that I leave things alone. I don’t sue.

I don’t shy conflict. But there needs to be a purpose to following up wrong. And, most times, there is no purpose. None whatsoever. Other than to prolong the senseless. I’d rather lose a lot of money than quibble over one Pound Sterling.

Having said that: That woman I wish all the misfortune that fate may have in store for her. The lot. I hate meanness. It’s an unforgivable sin in my book. And that woman was so mean as to drive me to the brink. Not of sanity. Just to the brink.

So, you lot out there, those believing in Karma: Will come around what goes around? I doubt it. So very much.

Other than that I wish I were Sicilian. She’d have another thing coming. Nothing deadly. Just another thing. Being given a taste of her own medicine.

U

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