: this is a real, honest-to-goodness post :


I swear. It is not a red herring and I’m not trying to pull a fast one. Promise.

But why should you believe me after that unfortunate incident on Friday? Well, you probably shouldn’t, in my honest opinion. Not after I shot off the notification of a new post … when there was no new post. Heck, who’d trust a nitwit like that? I wouldn’t and I won’t encourage you to, either. You go right ahead and be suspicious; I deserve it. Scoff away.

Here’s the thing: I was adding a link to a text widget. Simple, right? All I had to do was hit the button clearly labeled ‘Save Draft.’ But, no, I hit the one marked ‘Publish’. It’s an honest mistake, I suppose. Save Draft, Publish — same things, really. Or they are in my world. Heck, in my world I manage to ‘Like’ my own posts on a regular basis; I sometimes ‘Reblog’ my own posts; publish blank pages and unfinished pages and pages in progress. However, I’d rather not detail the  boners I pulled creating the new website. They’re too mortifying. Suffice it to say, Gravatars are horrible, dastardly things and I hope to never lay eyes on one again. Ever. Evereverever. Never.

Let’s put it behind us and call the Phantom Post episode a belated April Fool’s Day prank. I like the sound of that so much better than foul-up or error, don’t you? Seems friendlier. Planned. Instead of the embarrassing and humiliating display of gross incompetence it most certainly was.

Sadly, I’m acquiring quite a reputation as a dits. Sure, I’ve always been a little scatterbrained, leaning toward dopey, but lately, hooboy, I’m just plain batty. Out to lunch. I have, whoopsie, slipped the surly bonds. Last week, for instance, I spent three and a half hours making copies of an 8-page instruction manual — 300 sets, at least. Turns out I should’ve made one. One copy. No one else found it funny. I laughed alone, which only made things worse.

One day soon, my brain’s going to reach overload and short-circuit like a Krusty the Clown product– sproing, clank, zzzzt, doink, pffffffffffffffffff. Synapses will dangle from my ears and neurons drip from my nose. Smoke will drift and curl above the imploded rubble. But until that happens, I’ll stumble on, screwing up here, there, and everywhere.

My sincerest apologies, ladies and gentlemen, for barging in on you last Friday afternoon for no reason. I wish I could say it will never happen again, but we both know it will. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum, though. Cross my heart, I’ll try really, really hard. Have a nice day : )

Copyright © 2014 Publikworks


14 thoughts on “: this is a real, honest-to-goodness post :

    1. I know they can, Valentine, but they don’t. They happen to me. Always and almost exclusively. Who else sends out bogus notifications of non-existent posts? See? No one hand raised a hand. No one.

      Thanks for trying, though. I appreciate it.


    1. I hope you’re happy, Dave: I shot Coke through my nose. It stings– a lot — and my monitor is sticky. A warning would have been nice.

      Nevertheless, that was brilliant.


  1. Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself. Maybe you can sell the other 299 copies on the black market?


    1. Curiously, they disappeared while I was banished from the copier. Odd, isn’t it? Where’d they go? And why? Jeepers, what were those instructions for?


    1. Hey, silk purse! What’s it like, that feeling? I bet it’s nice. I wouldn’t know, though, since it’s always me. Every damn time. That’s the feeling I know — the sinking sensation.


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