Tag Archives: posts

I have to ask…

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Where the Hell is everyone?

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I’m not normally one to fret over my post stats but lately I’ve noticed an awful echo in blogland. My views have dropped by half in the past few months and I’m wondering if my readers have moved on to parts unknown… or are simply sick of my drivel and cut me out like a malignant tumor.

What say you?

Am I too much of a good thing, or is it getting lonely here at WordPress…

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Autocorrect can bit me.

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Why is it that technology designed to make our life easier always turns out to be a right royal pain in the as?

Yes, I typed ass… but autocorrect switched it to as. In addition to being annoying, my autocorrect is also a potty mouth censor. And fur the duration of this pist, I will be leaving the changes it makes to prove my point.

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That helps somewhat. To be honest, it’s the only reasonable explanation why every single time I type “for” it comes up fur.

And “post” is changed to pist. (Pist. That isn’t even a word! Which it damn well knows because every time it makes the switch the word comes up underlined. WTH?)

“Doesn’t” ? That’s changed to Durant. (Who is Durant? And why dues he keep wanting to appear in my pists?)

Dues! Geesh, that’s a brand new one. Clearly I have angered the autocorrect Gods.

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Yes, I know I can turn off the option in settings. But there’s a twisted part of me that’s stubborn enough to want to win the battle. If I disregard the changes often enough maybe, just maybe…that little drunken elf will sober up.

Too much to hope fur?

Probably. But hope springs external.

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A query.

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To tag or categorize… that is the question.

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As you know, I tend to be a prolific blogger. Since the global plague threw a monkey wrench in our retirement and travel plans… I’ve posted twice a day and disproved the old adage ‘less is more ’.

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But back to my question…

When you write a blog, do you tag or categorize? And what’s the difference?

My previous blog sites only offered tagging, so that’s what I’ve been doing since migrating here … but I’m wondering if I should categorize instead. Will more readers find my treasure trove of useless nonsense fascinating posts that way?

Dazzle me with your vast knowledge on the subject dear readers…

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Question….

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Does anyone blog from the WordPress phone app?

I’ve been seeing this on my scheduling list lately and it’s got me baffled.

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Local changes.

What does that mean….they think I might be editing from Paris?

And why is it flashing back to posts I wrote a year ago?

I have to physically scroll down to get it to refresh and pop back up to current day.

No big deal, I was just wondering if it happens to anyone else. I enjoy being special, but not this time.

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They keep on coming.

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Because the ball wash ads weren’t bad enough.

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Now I’m seeing this on my Facebook feed.

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Butt incense and polite bacteria?

Sorry, I find them both rude.

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Oh, look. Bright colors and assorted flavors.

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My privates do indeed go everywhere I go (except my uterus which I left at the hospital 5 years ago) but they will continue to go without butt incense for the foreseeable future.

Of this I’m sure.

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I think we need a wombat, because the goat thing has already been done.

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Meet Frankie Rae.

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Apparently he’s becoming a rather famous goat.

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How pathetic is it that a goat has more fans than I do?

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On second thought, he’s more photogenic, so it might make sense.

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So maybe the husband and I should get a wombat, and when we feel comfortable traveling again… I can feature the cuddly creature in my posts.

Could I share my dinner with a wombat?

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Sure.

Could I share my bed with a wombat?

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I don’t see why not.

Could I stage wombat-centric wilderness pictures?

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Of course.

Granted, the goat will one up us during the holidays …

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But uniqueness is key. And I dare you to find you another blogger who has a traveling wombat.

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I love my town.

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And their wacky Facebook Group postings.

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Cat damage and springs that poke your butt?

Hurry up people, these won’t last long!

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A noisy big yellow machine. I shall follow this thread and report back. Who knows… maybe it’s the Beatles’ long lost submarine.

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Christ. Don’t tell my husband!

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You may not know what it feels like to fall off the turnip truck, but in my town… apparently you can fall off the potato one.

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This is a running gag because certain parts of our town lose power quite easily. Flatulent rodents will probably strike here next, stay tuned

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Sadly, I know of no retail chicken establishments.

Wonder if I could talk them into a few clever and highly motivated red squirrels instead?

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Because some things are best left unexplored.

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Facebook ads. They’re never ending and annoying and I pay them very little mind.

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Yes, I like Hint water… but don’t need to see daily videos.

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And yes, those are some sweet shades I could easily see myself rocking next summer, but they don’t need to join the other 15 pairs I never wear in my junk drawer.

While I realize these ads are targeted to me specifically based on algorithms of my search history, every once in a while they surprise me.

As this one did the other day:

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Not being in possession of a pair, I assure you I have never actively searched for ball wash.

Trust me on this.

Of course since it popped up, I had to click. For research/ blog fodder purposes only you understand.

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Don’t be whack, GIVE A SACK.

There’s an ad slogan designed to burrow deep into your frontal cortex.

And while I admit I chortled over this, I’m not chortling now. Because you know what happens when you click on a Facebook ball wash product ad?

This:

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And this:

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I am now being inundated with less than helpful product placement.

Man meat.

What have I done!

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