Hand me a hanky. I’m considered a – a – a –retinue. Bless me.
So says Mr. Mead of Blogorrhea fame. It’s not to be confused with something in your eye.
Instead, I’m a retinue … to Mr. Scatter’s gadabout.
Lest you think I’m talking nasty, this comes from a communicable blog award that’s considered, um, a good thing. You have to be prolific to get it. It’s really called the Prolific Blogger Award.
This is like an accolade. It’s a nice gesture from Mr. Mead.
Mr. Scatter is the prolific one. I’m just the retinue. Which means I drop in now and then. Or act like a groupie. Or drive the car. Or something. Combine all this and what I really do is drive-by blog posts now and then.
The Large Smelly Boys get to be retinue, too. But we don’t let them drive yet.
Mr. Scatter is so prolific that he sits in his cute little kitchen nook and types away. We call him for dinner. We leave the hall light on for him. He just continues to tap-tap away. We leave crusts of bread on the table for him now and then. The Large Smelly Boys have grown mustaches since you last saw them, Mr. Scatter.
Mr. Scatter says he’ll have to acknowledge the honor more formally soon in the blog scroll. Actually, he said, “I’ll have to pass it along.” I’m not sure Mr. Scatter realizes that a condition of receiving the award is that on the site he has to add his name to Mr. Linky. I fully realize the irony of suggesting my husband will be both communicably prolific and the more responsible one in crafting a response.
Speaking of prolific …
“I just sold a vasectomy.”