Oh I hear you out there

A few days ago Bec in one of her increasingly rare posts (HINT) commented on my removing the comment option on some of my posts. I replied in an unecessarily convoluted manner as I am want to do about why I was opting for the paparazzi shunning ‘no comment’ option.

But now, in some covert unified Internet stalkers movement no-one’s saying anything even if the comment option is on. Are my posts so self-contained the urge to comment is removed? Is everyone so pissed at me for using ‘fuck’ way too often and bitching about my Mum and husband in really really bad, going to come back and bite me on the arse ways? Did I really go too far raising the whole vulval thing again? Am I so pathetically pedestrian that no-one visits us anymore and it’s just me visiting and revisiting that is pushing our numbers ever closer to 10,000 (WOOHOO)?

See, see.
This is my dilemma with comments.
Sometimes you get them and they aren’t what you need.
Sometimes you get them and forge glorious new friendships.
But then you don’t get them at all.
And all those paranoid neurosis come back.

On a lighter note, Adele Horin wrote in today’s SMH that the research saying having a family makes for a longer, happier life was a load of crap (derrr) and that many women wiht children were tired, tense and frustrated. Insert a phrase using the term blind freddy any time here.

And I’m turning comments off so you can all suck it.