Oh dear, my paltry eight blogspot followers has become a paltrier seven overnight. To top off the disappointment, only two of them are people I don’t know. The person who quit following me was the third of the unknowns. Now I’m almost as unpopular as nedrants.blogspot, who has managed one follower (me) with a single post last December. Seventy-eight consecutive daily posts and I have two followers, both of whom have probably not read a single entry. Ahh well, such is life, as my dad might say.
Allow me to over analyse reasons why that one follower may have left me. The exact name and blog url of the departed escapes me, but she was a woman of the healthy lifestyle obsessed type. Her blog was about living the raw foods (seeds, nuts, that sort of crap), yoga, Western is bad/Eastern is good, environment, feminist hippy life. The sort of lifestyle that makes one believe she must be, absolutely has to be, a massive hypocrite in some fashion. She probably drove a huge four-miles to the gallon car, or shoots squirrels and cuts off their tails with a pen knife. Or not as the case may be.
So either she was having a clean-out of her google-feed, and had only followed me in the hope I would return the follow (I didn’t), or something in my last blog post was particularly offensive to her sensibility.
What did I write yesterday through the mental fug of a third day of eleven hour shifts? I actually can’t remember; bare with me whilst I check back... Ack, adverts. Damn, I’ve done it to myself again, and planted those two stupid jingle words of that unspeakable insurance quote website. I’ll spare you the mention of them. But that must be it. The missing follower must suffer a particularly severe propensity for mental submersion in constantly spinning earworms. All it took was the mere mention of a few to send her into a descending maelstrom of internal torment, and although she could not excise them from her mind, she could hack off the source of her infection via the convenience of the unfollow button.
If that is not the reason then perhaps she took exception to my passing call to kill the makers of the advert in discussion. Even more likely is that she took heed of my instructions and acted upon them. As a result she has been captured, interrogated and imprisoned, her personal property seized, her bank accounts frozen and her google-connect account deleted. The investigation will inevitably lead to the source of her mania, and either I will be implicated, or if justice is thoroughly oiled, the hammer of blame will fall upon the fucking Go Compare advert.
And I promise that will be the last time I ever mention it.