Abuse and mince pies

Lads!

I’m distraught –somebody reported me for ‘abuse’ and I can’t post my blog link on my facebook wall or into my e-mails. Me! Abuse!

I went into my blog and looked at my posts (all two of them) and I genuinely cannot see what it is I wrote that someone found abusive.

Maybe it was because I used the ‘s’ word – the three-lettered one that ends in ‘x’. I thought we were beyond that. I thought that, like the use of Lord Voldemort ‘he who shall not be named’, it was acknowledged that use of a word could not harm or offend one or draw down the wrath of God on one.

Then I looked at the blogs again. Is it because I suggested that males were fundamental creatures? Was it a man who reported me- or a Mammy who is protecting her sons from any inference that they may not be as deep as they think they are?

Help me folks.

If you don’t tell me what it is I wrote that was offensive I’m likely to continue doing it and offending someone. I’m a nice person. Really.

Made a lorryload of home-made mincemeat last night for the home-made mince pies I’m taking to the milk n’cookies event in Temple Bar next week. Milk ‘N Cookies is a gathering of like-minded individuals who have formed a voluntary story-telling group that gather together to tell stories drink tea, coffee, milk and lots of lovely goodies. Everyone snuggles down on beanbags or duvets (there are chairs for those of us with effed up backs and knees) and in ambient lighting the story tellers weave their spells.

If I bring loads of mincers I’m hoping they’ll let me read one of my yarns possibly ‘The 5.50 19A’ which I have adapted for this particular session. One is supposed to tell rather than read a story, but I’m old and I’ve killed to many brain cells to memorise things any more. And to think I once played ‘Hamlet’ and never once fluffed a line. Hamlet at 17. Life was bound to go downhill after that.