Never forget how good you are to me.


You may –  all 198 of you – be wondering.  Or pondering.  Or even indulging in a little flânerie.

No, my collective Virginia.  The flânerie is not where you buy flans, any more than you would expect to do something interesting in Des Moines on a Saturday night.  Now stop interrupting.

This is just quickly to say – to all my latest followers, likers and re-bloggers, to  mes adultes terribles, and to my fine feathered friends –

Thank you.

I love that you’re here. And promise me this: Never forget how good you are to me.  Because you should always keep a good deed handy for when the time comes to punish someone.

And for those of  you who came here scoffing;  you scrofulous,  bewizened nay-sayers who saw, listened and read – with ne’er e’en an if-you-please or by-your-leave, if you will! – you, who swooped in on metaphorical blue-black wings and snacked voraciously on my coagulating lifeblood, like a brood of disgruntled Weight Watchers sucking back a discarded tray of Entenmann’s frosted donuts –  and then did nothing:

Kiss goodbye to answering your front door after 5 pm, sweeties.

Vinny’s back in town…

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