OK. I’m clearly a bit hyperactive. And perhaps a bit tipsy too. Let’s do this in stages.
1. So following on from my mini rant earlier, I need to make a public apology to Cots Girl. Because if WordPress wasn’t broken before it’s probably broken now. After speed reading, I’ve now caught up on what, a dozen posts? And commented on most of them. Oops. Sorry! And while we’re on the subject of WordPress things not working properly, I’d really like to have a notification on my mobile app when someone replies to a comment I’ve left on their post because a – it looks like I’m ignoring them and being rude, b – I forget to tick the little box at the end of the comment and c – I rarely ever log onto the site on my laptop. By which time, the comment’s been lost.
2. The reason for my hyperness. I just had a massive, ginormous rant on Facebook. Like, really bad. People don’t seem to realise when they like posts from pages, it shows up in the news feed and someone liked a fairly inconspicuous picture. Because I’m curious, I clicked onto the group page to see posts decreeing that I’m basically a barbarian because I’m a third generation immigrant and therefore responsible for all the murdering, burglary, shoplifting, raping, pillaging, unemployment, economical crises, NHS, scandals misjustice and probably all the road traffic accidents in England (some of these are me being sarcastic, I’m sure you can tell which ones). Well why don’t you just fuck right off and do us all a favour. Twat. So I had a huge, huge rant on my status and deleted her. Then she messaged me, apologising and saying it was a friend of hers who liked the photo which she then saw and liked too. She was horrified since she’s from a place which is renowned for being a hot bed of racism and quick to disassociate herself from it. To be fair, she handled it well. If it was me (which clearly it would never be), I’d have thrown a barrage of abuse from myself. Clearly a lesson to look more deeply into what you’re liking in Facebook land and I felt bad afterwards, but my message still stands. So my adrenaline is still pumping, hence the hyperactive jitteriness. Especially because all I could do was report the page which is probably pointless. I really wanted to comment on it and tell them I thought they were inbred, backwards and illiterate (think of people who spell lyk dis innit) but I didn’t. Because I now have a kind of business venture with a Facebook page and I have to be respectable kind of. And because it would be me against hundreds of mean horrible ogre racist types and I’d get so angry I’d probably self combust or have a hernia.
3. The eek? Well, I have some major news. But I can’t say what it is yet, mainly because Miss Yoyo will kill me if I tell you all before I tell her. After we’ve caught up over dinner tomorrow, I’ll spill.
Phew. And breathe.