Well, there went that weekend

At this point I don't know when my review of Father Hunger will get written. As for the weekend, well, insomnia and Dog the Destroyer prevented me from being able to get comfortable with a book long enough to read more than three paragraphs without nodding off.  I'm still catching up on the laundry - she managed to mix up large piles of clean and dirty laundry in an effort to get to a window to watch for my return. That will teach me to leave my bedroom door open. That is probably just as well since I suspect a few days of calm after the latest tempest stirred up by the Mistress of Scoundrels won't hurt. 

Speaking of whom, I was going to attempt to ask nicely and politely if she might do me a teensy favor.  Since I am prevented from making comments on her blog (unless I resort to the sort of subterfuge that I discovered works this weekend), I thought it odd that she had allowed  folks to discuss my commenting status a while back.  But I decided against it.  Turns out the Mistress is good for one thing - generating blog traffic.

Speaking further, this time about blog traffic, does anyone know if another tempest is brewing?  This one would be related to Denver Seminary.  I've had over a dozen page views (in the last several days) of the posts dealing with their foolishness in not checking out a pagan women's center before they decided to promote it as a "ministry".

I have one question for the Mistress of Scoundrels: If you keep blocking folks who won't bow to your superior compassion and understanding, who will be left to have all those better conversations with? Turns out even respectful disagreement isn't allowed. Shall I take up a collection to replace what will surely be soon worn out?  Yes, I make reference to your pouting chair.

Victimhood is the first refuge of the scoundrel. (Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford)