A few days ago, Mrs. G. noticed the above question in her Facebook status box. Frozen in fear, she sat for at least ten minutes contemplating the following:
1) She had finally lost her everloving mind and was writing to herself without being aware of writing to herself.
2) Wanda had hacked into her computer to push her over the edge and force her to deal with a couple of the many chinks in her armor.
3. She had finally lost her everloving mind and was writing to herself without being aware she was writing to herself.
Mrs. G. summoned her on-again-off-again heroism and accused her daughter, who was sitting just too innocently across the room, of messing with her. Her daughter explained Facebook was responsible for the rhetorical question, and then she proceeded to laugh her ass off. It was Sea Biscuit PTSD all over again.
Mrs. G. was mildy affronted, but mainly she was relieved.
If you have one of these on your blogs and Mrs. G. leaves a comment, rest assured she adores you, because she despises these wily bastards.