Word Verifier On Again

Sorry, guys. I got 9 spam messages today. I know some of you get turned off by word verifier, and don't want to comment as a result. The fact of the matter is the majority of my comments these days come from Anonymous telling me, "Well done!" or "Good design!" For some reason, my self-esteem hasn't soared to new heights (or whatever cliche you prefer).

Verify my post (to the beat of "Justify My Love")

Hey guys, I got five spam messages yesterday through my blog. That's three more than the ones from the day befored. If I am going to keep word verifier off, then make it worth my while, Spinners!

Actually, I take that back. Some of you, being the smarty-pants that you are, will bombard me with one word comments and laugh maniacally at my dismay. O, cruel, cruel Spinners.

Tell me the name of your favorite fairy tale, plus something about the fairy tale that grabs you. Maybe we can get into a knock-down fight over the merits of "Hans my Hedgehog" versus "The Seven Ravens," and hotly contest who's more wicked: Snow-White's stepmother or Bluebeard.

Word Verifier Off

I turned Word Verifier off two days ago. Fellow bloggers were getting frustrated with it, and I didn't want to alienate the loyal commenters of S & S. If I didn't care about the thoughts of others, I wouldn't have comments enabled at all. And yes, of course I care about what other people think. I know it's not hip to admit that. Sue me! Get in line.

Yesterday, I didn't get any spam (except for one message I suspect came from a certain jokester), but this morning, I found three new spam messages waiting for me. All of my blog comments get forwarded to my in-box in order that I don't miss messages posted on earlier blog entries. I can deal with three spam messages a day (this is not an invitation to comment on my blog, spammers), but if it gets ridiculous in the way it was before I activated Word Verifier, I'm turning WV back on.

I acknowledge that this is a grouchy post. For the past two weeks, I've felt anything but gleeful. I've had a sore-throat that's not strep, but some wretched little virus that's made talking difficult and singing impossible. If you were to shine a flashlight inside my throat (and for some reason, no one wants to do this), you would see some fascinatingly disgusting-looking sores. You might even be compelled to read Oh, Yuck: The Encyclopedia of Everything Nasty, by Joy Masoff. This book is a perennial favorite for summer reading school visits:



There! I knew somehow I could end this post on a cheery note. The codeine is finally kicking in.