After having a rather strong start and a renewed commitment to posting regularly around here this summer, I have already hit a snag and it’s only the second week of summer.
This does not bode well for me people.
Actually it was more like two snags. The first was the one I was the least prepared for….my Weiner post got picked up by six news feeds. At first I was all, “Oh look at me!!!!!”. My traffic went through the roof right along with my ego. I started demanding my children courtsey in my presence and refer to me by my new name, “Her Royal Blogness”. Well, I didn’t go quite that far. Sort of.
Soon, I realized the flip side to my new found ::cough cough:: fame. Spam. Thousands and thousands of spam comments. Like eight thousand comments. Some of them were funny, some where down right scary. To be honest, I understand the love of mankind with their dogs. I just don’t understand that kind of love. And now? I am officially blind.
Here is one of the more innocuous ones that perplexed me on so many levels:
“Howdy, i read your blog occasionally and that i own an analogous one and i was simply wondering if you get lots of spam comments? If thus how do you prevent it, any plugin or anything you’ll be able to advise? i purchase most lately its driving me mad so any assistance is extremely much appreciated.”
I dunno….you think I’m an expert on this? Because you? Are in my comment section along with 7,999 other asshat spambots and I have no idea what to do with you. So no. I might not be an expert on this. Here’s another one:
“You can definitely see your expertise in the work you write. The world hopes for even more passionate writers like you who aren’t afraid to mention how they believe. At all times go after your heart.”
This post? Was about peeing myself occasionally when I sneeze. I’m sorry but I’ve not met many writers who are passionate on this subject…including myself. Also, go with my heart? We can talk about many things near and dear to my heart….designer shoes, designer shoes and designer shoes. But peeing myself? No.
And then there was this one, which I fell in love with due to it’s brevity:
“Yo. Dats hot ho.”
I can’t remember exactly because it’s all blending together in my mind now but I seem to remember this one being about my son’s 10th birthday…which was decidedly not hot, yo. Also? I am no ho. Well, wait…there were the 80′s. But let’s not discuss that as this is a “family type blog”.
You in the back? Stop laughing.
I know I told you two things, but I’m exhausted from this post so you will just have to tune back in next time to hear the story of how Kyle, the Bonsai plant and my sons cell phone turned into a hostage situation on my watch.