I recently towrote a post in wich I included a photo of me with my hair torn out, scarred and in despair.  Imagine that photo, right  now, andthen make it 10,000 times wirse.  That is my condition now.

I would swear I was doing everything right – at least as right as I am capable of doing anything on aand for my blog.  I had it written, and was just in the process of adding two photographs – neither of which had anything to do with the post, which in their own way signified the actual theme of the post.

I decided to post for your entertainment an example of some recent spam – sincere spam – in which I was profusekly thanked for helping them muddle through their problems, or whih=ch gave them the precise information they had been looking for, on and on, etc. etc.  Most of theses comments were attached to my more recent posts, such as m “Three years ago in a galaxy far, far away,” or “God knows my name,” or “While you wait,” etc.  None of the posts referened were informative, educational or even particularly helpful articles (by any estimation) , but they nevertheless went into great length thanking me and informing me of how they had been precisely the post that helped them, saved their lives, or inspired them on to great things, such as the Nobel Prize, etc.

I had just finished the spell check of the completed post, and began to insert the arbirary photos (just for the sake of scenery).  I had a problem with one of the photoso, and elected to delete it, as it was useless anyway.  When I went to preview the COMPLETED post, there was no longer anything remaining on the page but their first two paragraphs.

My dear Gentle Readers, I am tired (it is 3:50 a.m.), and I am in no mood to reconsruct a post that was either (a) not very good; (b) very good and completely impossible to reconstruct, or (c), (d), (e) – who gives a flying#^%&$*( at the former planet Pluto?

Therefore, until I gather myself together enough to write again, manage to see thee screen in a font large enough to be legible to me to be even able to correct the spelling or grammer, this is it for tonight, or maybe even for the following three years.  I can’t see the spell check well enoih now to even botherm so enjoy the typos and whatever, and wish me your best, or your whatever, and I shall go off to bed with the idea that I have done enough. . .

A completely random pphoto from my files that I cannot now see for myself.  Let me know what it is.  I’m not kidding.