My Kindle has died: the nice Irish bloke at Kindle Support, while charming and patient, could not get me a replacement of the model I’m used to, and earlier this week the Internet went out because my husband accidentally cut through the cable with a pair of shears while gardening. Thus, grouchiness.
Dear SEO spammers: I hate you, and will never use your products. Also, your robots always seem to latch onto obscure pages hidden deep within the site rather than any page that a human being might reasonably comment on. Even if I was inclined to buy from spammers, which I’m not (I don’t buy from people who come door to door trying to get me to change my energy supplier, either), why would I buy from inept spammers?
Dear reviews-for-hire spammer: Wow, full marks for chutzpah, I suppose. The best I can say for you is that as far as con-artists go, you’re at least not spreading as much misery as some of the spam friends have told me they get when they post about infertility.
Seriously, this is why I tend not to be interested in heist movies, and why I gave up on The Lies Of Locke Lamora three-quarters of the way through with thoughts of ‘You know what, this is not for me, but my friend K would love it: I will stop reading here and post it to her instead’. Because scammers are all over the place like mosquitoes near low-lying water, and I don’t really want to read about it as well. Which is why it’s kind of ironic, of course, that I ended up with a small-time criminal and social manipulator as part of the cast of Heavy Ice.
I’ve also been having a look at the search terms that bring people to my blog.
Dear person who got here by searching on ‘is fifty shades of grey realistic’: No. You’re welcome.
Dear person who got here by searching on: ‘fifty shades of grey except red room of pain’: I see where you’re going with this, but I think you want either a different book or a trusted friend to flip pages forward for you. (Actually, I think you meant ‘excerpt’, but I’m being flippant)
Dear person who got here by searching on ‘list of elligible Caucasian bachelors searching for a wife’: unless you have access to a time machine, I don’t think I can help you.
In other news, WordPress continues to suggest deeply inapposite tags to me whenever I make a post, and I continue to stare at them and think ‘Deeply inapposite, there, WordPress’. In particular, it will not let go of the idea that I ought to be blogging about my holidays. Seriously, WordPress, are you trying to make me leave my house so you can burgle it? Because if so, you won’t find a Kindle. And probably not any internet, if my husband’s on the loose.