(Am I Blushing?)

I'd no sooner posted my last entry at this blog, when it received a comment. And a non sequitur, at that. In short--spam.

I'm so tickled by the attention, that, in the words of Wodehouse, I'm wriggling from base to apex with boyish enthusiasm. A stockbroker interested in li'l ol' me? Most flattering! What the spammer doesn't realize, of course, is that a person whose discretionary mental energy is taken up with writing song parodies is a person who expends no mental energy in acquiring that minimal amount of capital that makes investment possible. The spammer is barking up the wrong tree.

Still, I won't turn on the word-verification feature at this site. That would spoil the fun.