Thursday, 13 July 2017

The Spam Is Driving Me Insane

Writing this from a bar in the north of Spain, just me and a selection of fully-clothed, silent pensioners who understand that OUTSIDE IS BAD.


Me, with my people

It is hotter than Satan's armpit, including in our non air-conditioned apartment and on every inch of the merciless seafront, full of lithe brown bodies. The elder of my ingrate children has spent a considerable amount of time telling me that the sea is boring.


Boring


Also boring

The younger is constantly afflicted by puzzling ailments which have exhausted my limited pharmacy Spanish (no, no pictures of that, be grateful). Our tiny apartment is crammed with my spouse's diving gear. Other than that all is marvellous.

(it's fine really)
(it is very beautiful round here)
(we saw four small foxes last night)
(there are cakes)



(also, it hasn't actually got above 28°C I am just a wimp)
(and you can legitimately do nothing whatsoever between 2 and 4 due to heat, so I have read an indecent amount)
(I did however manage to burn one knee in 15 unguarded cloudy minutes sitting on beach)

Anyway, I am writing this simply to say that the fucking spam is driving me so crazy I have had to try and change the commenting, er, settings? Which means you can't comment anonymously. I don't even know if this will help or if it will stop all the excellent REAL people on here commenting, so consider this only experimental and subject to change. If it means you can't comment and want to, would you email me and say so?

Back on Sunday. Will return. I'm spending most of July on trains transporting children hither and thither which may or may not, depending on Thalys's shonky wifi, be good for blogging.