Friday, October 24, 2008

It almost killed me, but I got this week's Mamarazzi post up.

First the site was acting balky.

Then I got a cryptic email from the owner of the server, whose emails can best be described as Esperanto Haiku.

Then when I tried to log on, I had forgotten my password. Damn these computers with their cute, sleek interfaces and dangerously slick salesmanship. They remind me of the Snow White's stepmother.

Laptop in the guise of a harmless old peddler woman: Would you like us to remember your password?
Poppy: Why, dear sweet harmless-looking laptop? So that I forget it? Of course!

So I spent quite a long time trying and failing to log on to my Mamarazzi account.

Then I remembered the desktop computer upstairs. Perhaps its warm, vanilla-scented, freshly baked password-remembering cookies would still work!

So I tried it. And it worked.

But at that point, the little sprightly funny idea I had was cowering in the corner like a whipped spaniel, whimpering softly.

Well, I posted anyway. But I just don't know about the results.


  1. Someone needs to learn to live within her means. If I had that kind of divorce money, I know I could do it.

  2. Heather continues to impress me with her piece-of-workdom. I think she should start hanging out with Courtney Love. Together, they could wreak havoc unbeknownst to humankind.

  3. No thanks on the politician offer, we generally like our politicians to have some gravitas - oh there are exceptions but not this much of an exception. Maybe Italy? They voted in La Cicciolina after all.


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.