I KNOW HOW TO STOP GETTING COMMENTS EMAILS WITHOUT UNTICKING THE BOX

 

Do you want to know how to stop getting all those emails when you forget to untick the box on blogs that haven’t had the thingy disabled?

 

 

 

 

Do you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know how to.

 

 

 

 

 

I did some investigating while I can’t concentrate enough to write a post.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do you want me to tell you?

 

 

 

 

Or are you okay as you are?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have you sorted it out?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do you always remember to untick the box?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HA HA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, enough tormenting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Go to Reader — Blogs I Follow and at the bottom of the left hand column you’ll see, in small faded letters –

‘MANAGE EMAIL DELIVERY SETTINGS’

click on it, and down the list you’ll see a ‘FOLLOW COMMENTS’ box – untick it, and VOILA, no more emails.

 

 

Don’t all thank me at once.

 

♬ ♪ Just Another Shitey Sunday ♬ ♪

 

Yes, yes, yes, I know – I’ve written a post about boring shitey Sundays before – but so what, I’m doing another one and if no one likes it they’ll just have to lump it because I can’t think of anything else to write. All I can do is give you a mental update on the soaps if you want (I watched them all this afternoon) -

 

EMMERDALE – Zak Dingle is going mental (he gets sectioned next week)

CORONATION STREET – Tyrone’s girlfriend, Kirsty, is going mental (she belted him round the face with a ladle)

EASTENDERS – Ben Mitchell IS mental (and ugly – I liked the other, cuter Ben, he would have been sweetly evil)

 

 

Will that do for a post? I don’t see why it shouldn’t, what I’ve written amounts to 3 reviews which is 3 times more than I normally do. It also helps any Brits who might have missed the soaps this week, and it gives a snapshot of our week of telly watching to people in foreign climes.  And it’s got a tune in the title. So all in all it’s turned out to be a WHOPPER of a post, condensed into less than 200 words. I should do this every day.

 

 

The Three Red Bins Of Blogging Award (The Best Award I’ve Made Today)

 

I’ve been bored out of my skull today waiting for the universe to die so I’ve made a new award AND IT’S A NICE AWARD because I thought I’d better be nice for a change in case there IS a god.

This is my new award

 

See how nice I’ve been? I think I’ve been EXCEPTIONALLY NICE, nice enough to get me into HEAVEN if there IS a god.

There are two requirements to having this award -

1 — You have to CLICK ON THIS LINK AND THEN PRESS LIKE

2 — You have to CLICK ON THIS LINK AND ADD YOUR BLOG

 

If you’ve already done these two things you are BRILLIANT and I award you my new award which is a very, very classy award, if I do say so myself. If you haven’t already done these two things GO AND DO THEM.

When (notice I’m not saying ‘if’) you put it on your own site, you can set your own conditions to manipulate your readers into doing what you want them to do.  

Go forth, my acolytes, and continue being brilliant.

 

Dotty Film Review – Avatar

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

I KNOW WHY THE SMURFS AREN’T VISITING ME.

WHO DID IT TO THEM?

WHO?

WHY HAS NO ONE DONE ANYTHING ABOUT IT?

CAMERON

OBAMA

OTHER LEADERS WITH BIG BOMBS

YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES

IT’S AN

ATROCITY

TO ALLOW THIS SORT OF THING TO GO ON IN THIS DAY AND AGE

WHO TORTURED THEM?

WHO PUT THEM ON THE RACKS AND STRETCHED AND STRETCHED AND STRETCHED THEM?

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO THE LITTLE SMURFS?

WHY WOULD YOU MAKE THEM INTO BIG SKINNY THINGS THAT LOOK LIKE THE BFG BUT FLOPPIER AND UGLIER AND BLUER?

WHY?

AND THAT POOR FEMALE SMURF, THEY MADE HER INTO AN ABOMINATION AND SHE HAD TO SHAG THE HUMAN WHO BECAME A SMURF WHO ALSO GOT STRETCHED AND THEY MADE HER INTO AN

AVATART

AVATART

Score – 0 out of 10  because torture and cruelty should never be used as entertainment

I Made A New Page For You While I’m Waiting For The Boilerman

 

It’s for you all (y’all) to add your links to your blogs and so you can find other good blogs to read.

SPREAD THE LOVE, MY CHICKADEES, far across the wide, wide, WordPress.

Add your own blog to DOTTY’S PET BLOGS.

And go and visit each other.

But always come back to me.

Because I love you.

You are ALL beautiful.

And sparkly.

No exceptions.

Except one.

 

Little Emily’s Book Reviews by Ellis Bell

 

I’m sick and tired of little Emily nagging at me to let her write a post on my little blog. Who wants to read her posts? She should get her own fucking blog if she’s that desperate instead of trying to write on mine. I’ve resisted and resisted her but this morning she turned up at my house with a final draft of her FIRST novel which is unpublished as yet because she’s been busy writing the one with Heathcliff in it and she hasn’t bothered sending this first one off yet. And, bless her big white cotton bloomers, you’ll never guess what she’s been doing these last couple of days? Copying out the whole novel BY HAND – yes, bloggy people (and COF) writers used DECIPHERABLE HANDWRITING to write before typing was invented – and she did it ALL FOR ME. So the least I can do in return is compromise – I can’t let her have a whole post to herself but I asked if she wanted to do some book reviews and she (quite grudgingly, for some strange reason) said yes, she would like to do book reviews. I made it very clear that she isn’t TAKING OVER the book reviews, she’s got this post and that’s her lot so she’d better make a good job of it, no shoddy writing or spelling mistakes or bad grammar or thoughtless punctuation because you won’t find any of those things anywhere else on my little blog and I won’t stand for it on this post either. And no ink blobs either (her hands are stained to fuck).

So, I’ll hand you over to little Emily who’s sitting next to me waiting for me to turn the laptop round to face her.

 

(hurry up, idiot, they’re waiting)

 

 

Dear Reader,

Good afternoon. My name is Ellis Bell and I am a man. I am a man for whom a good book is an essential requirement for a content and happy day. I am a man (I am a man) with a life-long, deep-held appreciation for words. I am a literary man of literature and letters. I am a man of books.

 A book review is, ideally, a delicate examination of the inner workings of the author’s craft, and of the outer manifestations of the author’s ability to execute said craft. I am a man with a delicate eye with which to see. I am a man with a delicate hand with which to underline. I am a man with a delicate tongue with which to critic and praise. I am not a fierce man. I am not a harsh man. I am a fair and subtle man. I am a generous man. I am a gentle man.

I shall commence with the first book which has been selected for review by Mme D. Headbanger…

 

Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

(The girl, Tess, hails from a place in the southern counties. I managed to determine her unfortunate origins by hearing her speak for a short time. Her accent is dreadfully thick, excrutiatingly so; it is such that I can not elicit one single, legible sentence from her. I refuse to waste the little space and time allocated to my reviews in the arduous task of translating her words. We shall continue to the next on the list).

The Moonstone – Wilkie Collins

(I do not wish to review this book. My brother provides a generous and ample supply of laudanum-fuelled writings for my sisters and I to peruse. Besides, the author is a wicked, immoral cad).

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

(My dear, dear friend! Please, I beg of you, do not force me to go in there. Dotty, I implore you! Miss Havisham has fleas!)

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

(The pretty face of Dorian Gray is undeniably enticing, however, I am forbidden to venture into the realms of this works by my dear father, a pious man of God, who has read of the author’s imprisonment and refuses to allow his daughter son to associate with ne’er-do-wells and lags).

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

(What is this? What is it?)

 

I have had quite enough of this foolishness. The books listed for review are not of my choosing; I deeply regret that I did not stand firm and insist upon the choices I myself made. I have squandered my one and only opportunity to become a far-famed blog author, lauded and esteemed, praised and admired throughout the Empire. If only my choices had been acceptable to Mme D. Headbanger, but what possible use are ‘if onlys’, now, at the summit of my shame?

Disgrace is upon me. I must hasten home.

Yours, in spasms of mortified ignominy,

Ellis Bell

 

 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t feel sorry for her, you should have seen HER list – actually, I’ll show you it or it’ll be me who ends up being the bad one in this –

 

Confessions of a Shop-a-holic

Bridget Jones’s Diary

Bridget Jones: The Edge Of Reason

Mills & Boon – a  Doctor & Nurse romance

A book by Barbara Cartland

 

 

That’s what she had on her list.

Fucking stupid Victorian. Why do I bother?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dotty Book Review – Villette

 

Little Emily has asked me to review one of her sister Charlotte’s books. She begged me to do a hatchet job to get back at Charlotte for butchering some of little Emily’s poems after little Emily died. Yes, little Emily IS dead. Is that a problem for you? Are you a BIGOT who discriminates against dead people in blogs? You’d better not be.

I was going to opt for The Professor because it’s the thinnest of Charlotte’s books, not so many pages of DRONE to get through (I dismissed Jane Eyre because everyone knows Jane Eyre). Instead I chose to review Villette because of course it’s the one I’d choose, me being a she-hermit and knowing a bit about isolation and depression and all the shite that goes with them.

 

DEAD. DEAD. THEY ARE ALL DEAD.

This should have been the title of the book because although the mourning and despairing Charlotte does manage to hide herself adequately behind her main character, Lucy Snowe, she is still very apparent if you look for her – a half-solid shadow walking behind Lucy who every now and again peeps over Lucy’s shoulder and says BOO to the reader. Little Emily tells me that’s what Charlotte is like, a bit nosey, a bit controlling (little Emily is still SO fucked off about her poems) a bit attention seeking.

But Charlotte’s presence in the book doesn’t necessarily distract the reader, whereas the presence of SISTER AGONY AUNTIE DOTTY does – she crept into the book with the intention of SAVING Lucy but she was spotted before she could guide her to a happy ending; Charlotte punched her in the eye and wrote her out and tried to pretend Sister Agony Auntie Dotty was a man in disguise – not a good move, Charlotte, you could have come up with a more plausible lie as a cover-up.

How to describe Lucy? Ugly, mad, loser. Yep, that about covers it. And spinster, which IS a harsh and lonely word but it correctly describes her harsh and lonely life. Some people are frightened of the book because of the madness it contains – Lucy IS mad, nails through brains type of mad (HELLO!) which is why I like her, even though she doesn’t actually DO any trepanning in the book, probably because people would react in the same way as my sister Lottie reacted when she sneaked into my house that night. But nailing through to your brain isn’t good, it’s nothing but amateur over-enthusiastic trepanning –  LEARN TO DO IT PROPERLY, LUCY, OR YOU WILL GET AN INFECTION.

Lucy’s enemy is Reason, (which I understand all too well). She embodies the many conflicting thematic polarities that run through the book – on the outside she’s a bit of a cold fish, not very likeable, but her inner self is passionate and fiery. Fire and ice, life and death, imagination and reality, madness and sanity, fairytale and realism – Charlotte threw them all in, including a lot of red and white (Sister Agony Auntie Dotty’s BIG RED CROSS is left in even though Sister Agony Auntie Dotty got booted). There’s lots of imagery, lots of metaphors, lots of angst, lots of madness, lots of words and a few of Charlotte’s friends from Angria get a look in too (including the changeling with pygmy hands, Paulina, who steals Dr John, the man Lucy fancies JUST when Lucy gets him out on a date).

Poor Lucy never gets the man. She falls in love with M. Paul but everyone else conspires (didn’t I say it – they ARE out to get you) to keep them apart and he goes off to the West Indies. Lucy spends “three happy years” waiting for him while he sorts out a future for them both but when he’s on his way back to get her his ship sinks during a terrible storm and he dies. There are some debates about this ending because Charlotte purposely wasn’t very clear about it, maybe she couldn’t think of a proper ending so she left it open for the reader to decide, which is the lazy way out – (finish your fucking book, Charlotte, you spent a long time writing it) – but for me, he’s dead.

 

 

ADDENDUM — A newly discovered revelation – this book is about Charlotte and little Emily’s sister, Anne. I’m surprised no one else has made this discovery because it’s not hidden very well. The name LUCY SNOWE is the key. Here’s why –

LUCY is the word LUNACY with the N and the A taken out. What does N/A stand for? NOT APPLICABLE – which means the character of Lucy is not applicable to the author, Charlotte.

So who is it applicable to? Take those two letters, N and A, and put them with Lucy’s surname, SNOWE, make an anagram of them and stick LUCY on the end of it and you get ANNE WOS LUCY.

FUCKING OBVIOUS.

 

 

Dotty Film Review – A Bronx Tale

 

 

I LOVE IT!

 

 

This is one of the best films ever made. I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it. I’ve watched it about 40 times over the years and I still love it. Nothing will ever take away my love for it.

I won’t tell you ANYTHING ABOUT IT because you need to see it and love it all for yourself. It has BRILLIANT MUSIC, a BRILLIANT STORY, BRILLIANT ACTING and I love it.

The only thing that puzzles me is why does Sonny have to die in all the Mafia films he appears in? He dies in The Godfather, he dies in A Bronx Tale. I’m not certain but he probably dies in Goodfellas too. And all the other Mafia films. I wasn’t so bothered when he died in The Godfather but when he dies in A Bronx Tale I cry. Always. Poor Calogero. And when the car burns with Calogero’s friends in it, I cry then as well because that’s a REALLY SAD BIT. And when Calogero is running to try and get there to warn them, I cry then as well because I know they’re dead but he doesn’t and that’s a REALLY, REALLY SAD BIT.

But there are loads and loads of bits that make me laugh – the bit where they lock the door of the bar and kick the shit out of all the biker gang, the bit where Sonny lends Calogero his car to go on his first date with Jane, the bit where they’re all sent into the toilet … there are too many funny bits to tell. I love it.

So if you’re looking for a film to love that will make you laugh and cry and want to watch it again and again, look no further, this is it. I LOVE IT.

 

Score — 100000 out of 10

 

 

Dotty Film Review – The Woman In Black

 

And today Harry the Plank Potter is wearing facial expression Number One

 

I have only two things to say about this film.

FIRST THING —  THEY’VE COMPLETELY SLAUGHTERED SUSAN HILL’S BOOK

and

SECOND THING —  HARRY POTTER CAN’T ACT – why would he even try to act, why would he want to put himself through the shame and humiliation when he doesn’t need to? HE’S A MAGICIAN, isn’t that good enough for him? He’s like these soap opera people who decide that because their CHARACTER is popular on a soap they’ll leave that soap because they’re too good for it, they want bigger things, better things and what happens after they leave is THEY ARE NEVER SEEN ON MY TELLY AGAIN. They disappear into the whirly voids of obscurity and spend the rest of their lives in deep despond about the GRAVE MISTAKE they made, and they watch their old soap and they see the people they used to work with IN STEADY EMPLOYMENT, ENJOYING THEIR STEADY MODICUM OF FAME and they cry and cry and cry. Sometimes they DO re-appear, like Ricky & Bianca & Mandy & David Wicks & Dennis Tanner and all the other old faces the telly companies hire back because THEY CAN PAY THEM LESS THAN OTHER ACTORS BECAUSE THEY ARE SO DESPERATE TO HAVE THEIR WORN AND TATTERED FACES ON MY TELLY AGAIN. Harry, you don’t need to be like them. A magician’s life is a good one. You can travel, you can have a laugh, you can do MAGIC and best of all YOU CAN BECOME FAMOUS like PAUL DANIELS. If VOLDEMORT could see you now he’d piss his pants laughing at your acting, in particular at your TWO FACIAL EXPRESSIONS (facial expression 1 – wooden / facial expression 2 – is it fear?). But why didn’t you use your magic on yourself? Or your invisible cloak, which actually is a brilliant idea – get them to remake the film with you wearing your invisible cloak over your head FOR THE WHOLE FILM. That would be a right laugh, they could still call it The Woman In Black or they could call it Headless Harry Potter in The Woman In Black Film.

CONFESSION — I haven’t actually seen the whole of The Woman In Black, I saw three clips of it but that was quite enough for me, thank you. From what I gather though, the whole film is nothing but Harry Potter and his TWO FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, some CREEPY LOCAL PEOPLE, a few TENSE MOMENTS, and a lot of bad weather.

 

Score – 4 out of 10 (I’ve marked this up by two points because I’m soft, I still like Harry, he’s young, bless him, and he did TRY).

 

I Know I Said I Didn’t Want Pobert Rattinson’s Face On My Blog But ….

I COULDN'T HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF.

Dotty Book Review – Wuthering Heights

 

My new best friend, little Emily, is the credited author of this book with a teensy bit of help from yours truly – Cathy Earnshaw has ginger hair and this was my doing because little Emily couldn’t make up her mind what colour hair Cathy should have so I advised her – ginger. Cathy runs around the moors a lot. I think she has a mental illness that makes her think she’s a ginger sheep she gallops about up there so much. I asked Branwell if he can sort her out with a little tot of laudanum to calm her down (his prices are very reasonable).

It’s Heathcliff I feel sorry for. Have you seen the state of his little house? It’s nothing but RUINS, a few tumbledown stones. I worry about where he sleeps in winter. In summer he’s fine, he sits drinking in the Black Bull all night with nice American tourists who’ve travelled a long way to visit him and when they find out he has nowhere to stay they very kindly stump up the cash for his Bed & Breakfast in the pub. It’s when the nice Americans go away that concerns me, what does he do then? Little Emily won’t have him in the house he’s caused so much trouble. He’s a moody sod at the best of times, so how anyone would put up with him lodging in their house I don’t know. I wouldn’t have him to stay with me, I couldn’t anyway because I HAVE PEOPLE PHOBIA and a moody man in the house would scare me. Having JUDAS to stay was bad enough and he’s my ex-brother, imagine what it would do to me having a relative stranger around all the time, especially one as morose as Heathcliff. No, he can’t come here.

Cathy should be the one to take him in but she won’t. She’s a bit of a bimbo, and she’s a bit slutty too. And she can’t sing. When she had black bushy hair (before little Emily saught my advice) she changed her name to Kate and she used to stand outside Heathcliff’s window singing a synopsis of the book. I’ll leave you to listen to her singing it, I don’t want to hear her again, I’ve got tinnitus and she’d do my head in. This is what she sings –

 

Out on the wiley, windy moors

we’d roll and fall in green.

You had a temper — like my jealousy,

too hot, too greedy.

How could you leave me

when I needed to — possess you?

I hated you, I loved you too.

Bad dreams in the night

told me I was going to lose the fight,

leave behind my Wuuuthering, Wuuuthering,

Wuuuthering-a Heights

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Oooh it gets dark, it gets lonely

on the other side from you.

I pine a lot. I find the lot

falls through without you.

I’m coming back love,

Cruel Heathcliff, my one dream,

my only Master.

Too long I roam in the night.

I’m coming back to his side to put it right.

I’m coming home to Wuuuthering, Wuuuthering,

Wuuuthering-a Heights

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Ooh, let me have it,

let me grab your soul away.

Ooh, let me have it,

let me grab your soul away.

You know it’s me — Cathy.

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so coh-oh-oh-old,

let me in at your windoh-oh-oh-ohw.

Heeeaathcliff! It’s me, oh Catheee

I’ve come home I’m —- so cold.

by Kate Bush (Cathy’s stage name)

 

Short Dotty Film Review Of All The Twilight Films

I'm not putting a picture of ugly Pobert on my little blog so you can look at the book instead

 

 

Pobert Rattinson (see Dotty’s Consonant Swap Game) is one of the ugliest fuckers ever to show himself on my telly. His face looks like someone smacked it repeatedly with a gravestone. He resembles Stefan Somerhalder (see Totty On The Telly), my lovely Ian Somerhalder’s ugly brother from THE VAMPIRE DIARIES.

In the films Pobert is a vampire and he has a girlfriend who is human. Ring any bells? Yes, of course it rings bells, a BIG fucking ding-a-ling of bells, because IT’S A COMPLETE RIP-OFF OF THE VAMPIRE DIARIES. And yes, I HAVE read the books, the first three anyway, and putting aside THE VAMPIRE DIARIES rip-off issue the books are a zillion times better than the films for these four reasons –

1.  Pobert’s ugly face isn’t in the books.

2.  Pobert’s ugly face isn’t in the books.

3.  Pobert’s ugly face isn’t in the books.

4.  HALF THE STORY IS MISSING.

So don’t bother watching these films, they’re shite. You should read the books instead - PROPER books with PAPER PAGES.

 

Score  – 0 out of 10

 

Dotty Film Reviews – The Day The Earth Stood Still

 

 

The other day I watched a film I’d recorded onto my telly-box library. It was called THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL which was a stupid, inaccurate title because the earth didn’t stand still - HOW COULD IT, YOU THICK SHITS? In fact there wasn’t much standing still at all and when Jennifer Connelly DID stand still a soldier on a winch dropped out of the sky and oiked her up into a helicopter. A better title is THE DAY THE EARTH CONTINUED TO SPIN – still not absolutely indicative of what the film is about, but a hundred times more accurate than the one they came up with. A PERFECT title is THE DAY KEANU REEVES DECIDED NOT TO DESTROY THE HUMAN RACE.

Don’t you think Jennifer Connelly looks like a young Demi Moore? I do.

Keanu Reeves is an alien. I never realised this but I should have because it explains his extraordinary abilities in THE MATRIX SERIES, which is a three part documentary about people who wear nothing but black clothes. I don’t think Sandra Bullock realised he was an alien either or she might have thought twice about falling in love with him when she lived in THE LAKE HOUSE.

Something else I find totally unbelievable in this film is how DOLORES CLAIBORNE got to be PRESIDENT MR BARACK OBAMA’S right-hand woman after what she did in her past when she was so sadistic to that poor author. AMERICAN PEOPLE, LISTEN TO ME – SHE MANGLED HIS LEGS UP, YOU KNOW SHE DID, YET YOU STILL HAVE HER IN A POSITION OF POWER. Why? What if she does it again and this time she does it to YOUR PRESIDENT, MR BARACK OBAMA? Don’t you care about him? Don’t you care what happens TO HIS LEGS?

And while you’re thinking about YOUR PRESIDENT, MR BARACK OBAMA’S legs, you might also want to think about Prince Will Smith of Bel-Air’s parenting skills because here in this country he’d be had up for CHILD NEGLECT for allowing a little kid like that to run round with AN ALIEN WHO WANTS TO DESTROY THE HUMAN RACE. Somebody needs to have a word with Prince Will Smith of Bel-Air and tell him you can’t just foist your kid off onto anyone who happens to pass by just because you’re royalty and you can’t be bothered with the little brat.

There ARE some good bits in this film though. The GREAT BIG BALL WITH A SWIRLY CLOUD INSIDE IT is a good bit. So is the GREAT BIG TRANSFORMER ROBOT except when he changes himself into A GREAT BIG SWARM OF INSECTS because I don’t like insects, they frighten me and I don’t know why Keanu didn’t just smite all the insects and creepy crawlies here on earth before he left to go back to his own planet. He could have at least done that for the human race – in the end he did fuck all for us, I don’t know why he bothered coming.

 

 

Score – 2 out of 10

 

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