It seems my inbox is my new boxing ring. Settle in with some popcorn. This one is going to be fun.
You are such a narcissist!”
An articulate woman from Britain hung me with this moniker. Is that better than “snob”? I am not quite sure.
Her beef was with my post about birthday celebrations. In her estimation, no one in the blogosphere cares anything about anyone’s personal anything. All of you stream-of-consciousness, slice-of-life bloggers take heed…no one will read your work. And she “knows about these things”.
She also took issue with its title as being unnecessarily profane. Who thinks I should put an adult warning on this blog?
Can I get a show of hands?
There is nothing green about you!”
Now, my blog may not be dedicated to green living, but my inner circle inhabitants know I am the recycling Nazi. A man from California who owns a “greenmobile” (Idly wonders if that is an official make or model) could not believe I would post such blasphemous rumors in my post Do you really want to plug that in?
He lectured me for three paragraphs about how there are no cons to his “greenmobile” as it was “every drivers dream”. I asked him to send pictures and if he would like me to nominate him for a Green Award.
How’s that for a comeback?
You deserve coal in your stocking!”
Wow! A woman (?) from Scottsdale (AZ) is certain “Santa (?!) will fill [my] stocking with coal”, since I obviously am naughty for my post Thanks! I, um, love it?
Now, if I could take seriously a grownup (?) believing in Santa Claus, I may have been inclined to tell her I had an in with the elves.
But since I absolutely could not, instead, I chose to tell her I had penance to do to ensure the Jolly Fat Man would come laden with gifts he personally knew I would enjoy, as I had written him a six-page wish list with direct links to the correct products.
(Who me? Naughty? Who told? Checks [mental] list [of co-conspirators] twice.)
Rednecks shouldn’t write blogs.”
Although I admit my family tree looks more like a football play, I am no redneck. Apparently, a man in Connecticut is convinced by Thank ya. Thank ya, vury much. I am a died-in-wool, barefoot, “baby making redneck”.
Perhaps, he Googled me to find out I am from and live in the American South. I gather from his irate diatribe no one in New England bothers with the “ignorant formality” of saying thank you. Because I could not resist, I thanked him for his worldly advice which I would certainly put to good use if I ever “got loosa the South and got to his neck of the woods”.
(Lays odds who will take issue with “barefoot” first.)
And in what has to be the winner of the OMG Stupid Email Award…
People like you are what is wrong with the economy.”
This winner hails from California, Silicon Valley to be exact. With people like me wasting corporate money and management payroll hours with “inane games”, like the one in I will NOT eat that., it was no wonder corporate America was bankrupt and slashing jobs.
Maybe, in Silicone Valley all of the parents agreed with me in Home is Where the Mouth Is: Except HIS mother. I answered his tirade with a largely polite (yeah, right) response.
Who am I kidding?
I sent him a laundry list of articles to help his unemployable butt save money, mind his manners and get a job.
One Final Note
I could regale you for hours with the stories from the touched, insane and downright hateful email, but alas, it is time to say goodnight. Instead, I want to thank you for reading another slice of life!
Did I handle these better?
(c) Ann Marie Dwyer 2011
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