Just taking a break from copying here.

There has been a person who shall remain unnamed, but you all know who it is, who has been leaving lovely little notes in diarists� guestbooks worded in almost identical ways about what a wonderful site you have and staying creative. I clicked on his url, and found myself at a certain site with its own guestbook. So I left a note thanking that person for signing my guestbook, and he was welcome to drop in anytime. Then I noticed a note from another Diaryland user, so I checked out her guestbook, and lo, there was a note from this same person. So I got curious, and started checking out other diarists� guestbooks, and it looks like our little friend has been very busy indeed, visiting, dropping lines, and leaving his url.

At first I was puzzled as to what was going on, but pretty soon I realized that our friend is simply advertising his own site, leaving his url and hoping that people visit him. I think he sells music recordings. I didn�t linger long enough to find out more. But I do think it�s pretty cheap to take advantage of people�s guestbooks in this way, like telemarketing. Shame on you, whoever you are!

Speaking of telemarketing, I told a MasterCard representative that I was not interested in their special insurance plan whereby if I suffer loss of life or limb and cannot work for up to six months my debts will be paid, all for a small monthly fee. I am one of those credit card holders who pays his bill in full each month, thus never carrying a balance nor accruing interest charges. In an attempt to get me to spend more money and not be able to pay it off in full, the credit card companies keep raising the limit on my cards. I think by now I could probably buy a car with their combined force, but I�m not going to, specifically because I do not buy anything on credit that I cannot pay off next month when my bill comes in.

It is so difficult to get rid of these guys when they call. First they ask for you by name, then they inquire after your health, and then they launch into their spiel. Once launched, they are unstoppable until they get to the part where they say, �And how many years worth of our magazine shall I sign you up for?� at which point I say, �None, thank you. I am not interested,� and hang up before they can start whining at me with some other enticement. It�s so intrusive! Like the door-to-door salesmen in the �Blondie� comic strip who are always ringing the doorbell when Dagwood is in the bath, causing him to answer the door with a towel wrapped around his middle, dripping, as they try to foist the latest labour-saving device onto him.

Most of the time, though, I have some warning. If the caller asks for Mrs. M, and it�s not the dentist�s office trying to make appointments for the family, I know to hang up fast, since I do not use my husband�s last name. Often I lie. Yes, I admit, it�s cowardly, but I�m just too nice to tell people to sod off. I�ll say, �No, I�m sorry but Mrs. M isn�t home right now. I�m the babysitter,� hoping that they won�t call back. Unfortunately they always do, and if one of the kids answers the phone, they always pass the caller on to me because they do not know the game I am playing. Then I either tell the telemarketer I�m not interested before the spiel, or when he stops for breath. Some of them are very tenacious, and extremely difficult to get rid of. Like leeches, or lamprey eels. Wow, what an image!

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