By Way of Apology: An Open Letter To All My Fellow Blogging Friends

My Intent is Never to Annoy, Nor Offend

TobyMac – I’m Sorry

***

Swerved into this a few days ago.

Renard’s World

Highly Recommended

It Gave Me Pause:

https://renardsworld.wordpress.com/2022/07/27/are-you-sure-that-you-want-to-be-a-blogger/

“You Will Have To Endure Your Fair Share Of Bloggers Leaving The Links To Their Blog In Your Blog’s Comments Thread”

(Lance Ed Note, “Ouch! Am I ‘That Guy?’ Survey Sez, “YES You ARE!”)

“My blog’s Commenting Policy page mentioned that there is no need for a blogger to add the link to their homepage in the commenting section of my blog and that it is okay to leave a single link that pertains to the topic along with their comment.”

***

Mixed Message Here?

My comment:

“You Will Have To Endure Your Fair Share Of Bloggers Leaving The Links To Their Blog In Your Blog’s Comments Thread”

“I am SO Guilty of this upon occasion.

I NEED to Stop!

Cease & Desist!

Love all your posts.

Very helpful.

Thank you”

***

Kept ‘Pondering’ His Post.

Stayed in my Head, Not Unlike an ‘Ear-Worm’

My ‘Thinkings’ on this matter are these:

  • I never just arbitrarily drop a link—it must relate to the original poster’s topic—I am no ‘Troll.’
  • It is called “Social Media” for a Reason.
  • Generally, I will leave a comment if I ‘Like’ a Post. Feedback is Important.
  • Sometimes I get comments that are 1000 words long—love them—how is a one-line-link more ‘worrisome’ than that? Hint: It’s Not
  • You don’t have to ‘Follow-My-Yellow-Brick-Road’—Just scroll on by—Too Easy

Never-the-Less, going forward, I will never drop another link in any comment I leave. My least desired desire is to annoy or piss you off.

OK, Occasionally, This Ain’t Entirely True.

Sometimes Pissing People Off is a Great Segway into forming great tête-à-tête

Friendships

“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Cred For Vid Share: mylifeinmovies: https://www.youtube.com/user/ViolaAnita

***

“First, Do No Harm.”

Any Thoughts? Opinions? Flames?

I Embrace Them All

And Feel Free to Drop Links into MY Comments Section.

I welcome them.

Cheers Y’All

Since Wp wILL NOT ALLOW ME TO DROP THIS IN…Rhonda Jo: Chapter Le Premier: “Help Help Me Rhonda” (This Post is All Fukked Up. Discombobulated–Caint Edit… N/M…

Cred: Lovely Joni!

***

Suffice To Say: Marriage Doesn’t Work For Me!

***

I Needed “Help”

Got it

Thanks to Rhonda

She Allowed Me to Discover ‘Love’ Again

Self-Pity is a worse disease than alcoholism.
I can ‘fix’ alcoholism.
Have not yet found a cure for self-pity or regret, or loneliness.
These plagues plague me.
Constantly
Relentlessly

Incessantly

****

Help Me Rhonda

Spoiler:

She Did

Cred: Beeech Boyz

Then I Wronged Her

This ain’t Rhonda, but a pretty (really pretty) reasonable facsimile.

(Just like Rhonda)

Once Janet and I had escaped (In the middle of the night) from Nacogdoches, after having sold out and sold our “Aquarium World” Crud-Eater Tropical Fish Emporium to a young couple for not nearly what it was worth, we headed to Plano.

(Not sure why Plano)

Got there. Early in the A.M.
Just in time to find an apartment.

Found one, but we were near to broke.

West Plano—where all the yuppies and rich folk lived.

We managed to move in though.

No FURNITURE.

(We were used to that)

After about a month, we got kicked out.

Because we were deemed to be “White Trash.”

Fuck ‘em.

We found a cheaper apartment in East Plano that was FURNISHED.

Janet announced to me one day that she wanted to be a ‘housewife’ for one year.

Considering what I had put her through and what a ‘trooper’ she had always been, I agreed.

So I got a job which paid shit, but just enough to make her dream come true.

We would manage.

The job was a ‘factory’ job for a Mom and Pop company:

SPAN INSTRUMENTS

They made gauges. Pressure gauges. Mostly for fire trucks.

I was hired as a ‘Calibration Technician.’

For the gauges.

(Yeah, with all of my fucking ‘math skills.’)

But I never missed work and so they kept upping my pay.

So it was easy for me to keep my promise to my wife.

Then entered Rhonda Jo:

More White-Trash Than Me

It was inevitable Love at First Sight–

I could read The Writing on the Wall

***

Throwing a spanner in the works of my marriage.

To be continued…

Teaser:

Rhonda Jo: Chapter Le Premier: “Help Help Me Rhonda” (This Post is All Fukked Up. Discombobulated–Caint Edit… N/M…

Cred: Lovely Joni!

***

Suffice To Say: Marriage Doesn’t Work For Me!

***

I Needed “Help”

Got it

Thanks to Rhonda

She Allowed Me to Discover ‘Love’ Again

Self-Pity is a worse disease than alcoholism.
I can ‘fix’ alcoholism.
Have not yet found a cure for self-pity or regret, or loneliness.
These plagues plague me.
Constantly
Relentlessly

Incessantly

****

Help Me Rhonda

Spoiler:

She Did

Cred: Beeech Boyz

Then I Wronged Her

This ain’t Rhonda, but a pretty (really pretty) reasonable facsimile.

(Just like Rhonda)

Once Janet and I had escaped (In the middle of the night) from Nacogdoches, after having sold out and sold our “Aquarium World” Crud-Eater Tropical Fish Emporium to a young couple for not nearly what it was worth, we headed to Plano.

(Not sure why Plano)

Got there. Early in the A.M.
Just in time to find an apartment.

Found one, but we were near to broke.

West Plano—where all the yuppies and rich folk lived.

We managed to move in though.

No FURNITURE.

(We were used to that)

After about a month, we got kicked out.

Because we were deemed to be “White Trash.”

Fuck ‘em.

We found a cheaper apartment in East Plano that was FURNISHED.

Janet announced to me one day that she wanted to be a ‘housewife’ for one year.

Considering what I had put her through and what a ‘trooper’ she had always been, I agreed.

So I got a job which paid shit, but just enough to make her dream come true.

We would manage.

The job was a ‘factory’ job for a Mom and Pop company:

SPAN INSTRUMENTS

They made gauges. Pressure gauges. Mostly for fire trucks.

I was hired as a ‘Calibration Technician.’

For the gauges.

(Yeah, with all of my fucking ‘math skills.’)

But I never missed work and so they kept upping my pay.

So it was easy for me to keep my promise to my wife.

Then entered Rhonda Jo:

More White-Trash Than Me

It was inevitable Love at First Sight–

I could read The Writing on the Wall

***

Throwing a spanner in the works of my marriage.

To be continued…

Teaser:

Rhonda: Chapter Le Premier: “Help Help Me Rhonda” (This Post is All Fukked Up. Discombobulated–Caint Ed… N/M… Suffice To Say: “Fuk U WordPress!”)

I Needed “Help”

Got it

Thanks to Rhonda

She Allowed Me to Discover ‘Love’ Again

Self-Pity is a worse disease than alcoholism.
I can ‘fix’ alcoholism.
Have not yet found a cure for self-pity or regret, or loneliness.
These plagues plague me.
Constantly
Relentlessly

Incessantly

****

Help Me Rhonda

Spoiler:

She Did

Cred: Beeech Boyz

Then I Wronged Her

This ain’t Rhonda, but a pretty (really pretty) reasonable facsimile.

(Just like Rhonda)

Once Janet and I had escaped (In the middle of the night) from Nacogdoches, after having sold out and sold our “Aquarium World” Crud-Eater Tropical Fish Emporium to a young couple for not nearly what it was worth, we headed to Plano.

(Not sure why Plano)

Got there. Early in the A.M.
Just in time to find an apartment.

Found one, but we were near to broke.

West Plano—where all the yuppies and rich folk lived.

We managed to move in though.

No FURNITURE.

(We were used to that)

After about a month, we got kicked out.

Because we were deemed to be “White Trash.”

Fuck ‘em.

We found a cheaper apartment in East Plano that was FURNISHED.

Janet announced to me one day that she wanted to be a ‘housewife’ for one year.

Considering what I had put her through and what a ‘trooper’ she had always been, I agreed.

So I got a job which paid shit, but just enough to make her dream come true.

We would manage.

The job was a ‘factory’ job for a Mom and Pop company:

SPAN INSTRUMENTS

They made gauges. Pressure gauges. Mostly for fire trucks.

I was hired as a ‘Calibration Technician.’

For the gauges.

(Yeah, with all of my fucking ‘math skills.’)

But I never missed work and so they kept upping my pay.

So it was easy for me to keep my promise to my wife.

Then entered Rhonda Jo:

More White-Trash Than Me

It was inevitable Love at First Sight–

I could read The Writing on the Wall

***

Throwing a spanner in the works of my marriage.

To be continued…

Teaser:

Rhonda: Chapter Le Premier

Help Me Rhonda

Spoiler:

She Did

Then I Wronged Her

This ain’t Rhonda, but a pretty (really pretty) reasonable facsimile.

(Just like Rhonda)

Once Janet and I had escaped (In the middle of the night) from Nacogdoches, after having sold out and sold our “Aquarium World” Crud-Eater Tropical Fish Emporium to a young couple for not nearly what it was worth, we headed to Plano.

(Not sure why Plano)

Got there. Early in the A.M.
Just in time to find an apartment.

Found one, but we were near to broke.

West Plano—where all the yuppies and rich folk lived.

We managed to move in though.

No FURNITURE.

(We were used to that)

After about a month, we got kicked out.

Because we were deemed to be “White Trash.”

Fuck ‘em.

We found a cheaper apartment in East Plano that was FURNISHED.

Janet announced to me one day that she wanted to be a ‘housewife’ for one year.

Considering what I had put her through and what a ‘trooper’ she had always been, I agreed.

So I got a job which paid shit, but just enough to make her dream come true.

We would manage.

The job was a ‘factory’ job for a Mom and Pop company:

SPAN INSTRUMENTS

They made gauges. Pressure gauges. Mostly for fire trucks.

I was hired as a ‘Calibration Technician.’

For the gauges.

(Yeah, with all of my fucking ‘math skills.’)

But I never missed work and so they kept upping my pay.

So it was easy for me to keep my promise to my wife.

Then entered Rhonda Jo:

Throwing a spanner in the works of my marriage.

To be continued…

Teaser: