FWIW

For whatever it's worth, there's a possibility that my mother's reading this. She tells me she's read some of my comments in various places, which is a little like finding out she went to see you at the peepshow and is critiquing your performance, though certainly she's read other stuff I've written that's probably even less mother-approved. I don't really care if she wants to read it, but I'd as soon not know, and I'm not going to explain anything I've said. We're all entitled to pretend our asides aren't being heard by the other players. I'm not even going to confirm or deny which of the various D. Sidhe that pop up in assorted places are me. Ultimately it doesn't matter. I know who and what I am, and that's all I'm responsible for.

To my mother, my sister, or anyone else out there who knows me in real life, if you want to read along, you are free to do so, of course. But it would be a good idea to remember that there are things I might say that you'll wish you didn't know, and that once that cat's out of the bag, it's very hard to put it back in.

To anyone who's read this far, my advice is to pretend nobody's out there, or failing that, to populate the imaginary blog bleachers with the audience you want to be listening to you, and go with that. It's what I do.

Please don't feel that you need to watch what you say. The commenters I am fortunate enough to have attracted somehow are profound and profane in equal measure, and whether they are Respectable, in that grand old outdated term, I respect them.

So say it like you mean it. Or say it like you don't give a fuck. I'm good either way.