…not so much a Bucket List item, more a ‘Just-Do-It-While-Yeez-Still-Can’ kinda gig… #TBSU…

…any of yeez out there over the age of say, 40, will prob’ly well understand the concept of ‘nostalgia’… about a month ago, I posted a blog piece, the sheaf of positive responses to which just blew me away… it was triggered one night when I played a Gaelic song by Runrig, called ‘An Ubhal As Airde’ (The Highest Apple)… and I’ve hardly stopped listening to it since… it conjured up the memories of my arrival in the Scottish Hebridean island of Mull exactly 50 years ago… I left the island after six life-changing years, having acquired some of the local language and some medals for singing it… the story, repeated below in the original post, speaks to that… now, here’s the thing… I rang a friend who still lives in Tobermory on the island, and proposed the crazy idea of me coming back there later this year, and being allowed to present a Learner’s Prize trophy to which I donated some money some years ago… but the real purpose would be to sing with her (her name is Janet Macdonald, nee Tandy-–she won the Gold Medal some years ago in the National Gaelic Mod festival) and another great medal winner, Joannie Kirsop (nee Mackenzie) as we did so often together in ceilidhs back then… and get the lot on video…  the song would be the one referred to above, that Runrig performs on here… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!…

 

…the original post is here :

…Authors, when yeez need a wee flame to re-ignite yer soul, try this music… #TBSU…

…this ol’ Jurassic tries to live by a credo of having only two kinds of day… ‘good’ days and ‘better’ days… and on these intervals when they are merely ‘good’ days, a wee dip into my past life fifty years ago as an apprentice banker in the glorious Isle of Mull in the Scottish Hebrides never fails to render it into a ‘better’ day… only those who’ve lived amongst a community such as those in the Highlands of Scotland will get close to understanding the ties of the heart that bind yeez forever to a place… my early years were formulated in Docklands Govan in Glasgow, also populated with some of the salt of the earth, people who usually had little in the way of tangible things to give, but offered freely of their kindness to others… but a special kinship belongs to the smaller village-style communities such as those that welcomed in a callow youth of barely 15 years… estranged from a big city family (the tale of which can wait for another day), the good people of Tobermory in Mull enveloped me with a warmth of society I’ve never encountered since…

…back in them days, I occasionally plinked away at a guitar and warbled an even more nasal version of ‘Blowing in the Wind’ thanMaster B. Dylan himself… it didn’t take long to be persuaded to learn some gaelic songs… two wunnerful lady schoolteachers were ‘donated’to me, one to teach me the gaelic, and one to drill me in the music (in the delivery of gaelic songs the meaning of the words weighs more than even the music itself)… after that I was ‘entered’ in gaelic-singing competitions locally and nationally at what the Scots Gaels refer to as‘the Mod’ (the Welsh have their equivalent in the annual Eisteddfod)… history will show I was fortunate enuff to garner a pile of prizes… but the greatest reward of all was the lifelong love instilled in me of pure Celtic music… if yeez have any romance at all in yer soul… if the Music of the Gods means anything to yeez, yeez’ll understand what I mean… and if even if yeez don’t understand it… yeez can still enjoy it, (above) …  Runrig, with ‘An Ubhal as Airde’... (‘the Highest Apple’)… go on… turn yer day into a ‘better’ day… have a listen, and enjoy… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ…

ALL MY BLOG POSTS ARE FREE TO SHARE/RE-BLOG SHOULD YOU SO WISH—BE MY GUEST!

 

…there are times when my male Neanderthal links are so evident… #TBSU…

…I think there’s a lot more to this DNA gig than folk realise… forget for a minute the obvious traits, such as physical body formation, human genome trails, generation to generation… the continuation of family likenesses and stuff I can accept in the wink of an eye… what about the behaviour patterns passed down through the millennia?… the instinctive reactions to situations?… methinks p’raps there’s more than a tad of that also gets permeated down through the DNA, all the way from the earliest ancient civilisations (some of which, by the way, seem a lot more civilised than the current lot) up to the modern day… now, yeez may be asking yourselves, ‘how does Master Gallacher arrive at these amazing deducements?’… elementary my dear What’s On… evidence of this ol’ Jurassic’s own behaviour on occasion… case in point yesterday… from time to time, I indulge a wee bit of paper shredding… none of yer Enron-style document-disposal ploys… more like old invoices and bills, no longer required… don’t want to throw them in the garbage collection wheelies, lest sumb’dy goes in search of industrial sabotage in my litter… a while back I purchased one of these modestly-priced shredder machines built to reduce yer household paper waste to strips of confetti … thing is, the maximum recommended ‘feed’ of paper into the bit at the top where the ‘teeth’ are is six sheets of paper… of course, such suggestions fly in the face of the need to get the job done quickly… result, I try to stuff a dozen or so at a time into the mini-hopper… for the first few seconds, all is well… then the initial chewing-up process instantly gives way to a nasty, horrible, grinding noise… the bluudy thing jams… with only a quarter-depth of the pages ripped… and stuck… the rest flutters out of the top of the machine, mocking my efforts at home waste management… the sensible course of action, naturally, would be to retrieve the papers, reverse the motion, and slim down the ‘feed’… right?… not a chance!… Neanderthal Being DNA takes over… I try harder to stuff the remainder of the mess into the chewer… with even worse consequences… the machine capitulates… cursing ensues…(and it’s not pretty)… it’s a ‘man’ thing, y’see… it’ll be alright in an hour or two when I’ve picked out all the wee bits hanging inside this bluudy machine… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!…

…Daft Old Scots Author’s ALERT! …Health Warnings can be a danger to yer Health… #TBSU…

…I don’t suppose for a nano-second that the Cavemen Cousins of Barney Rubble and Fred Flintstone had much truck with dietary consideration… a menu of dinosaur steaks with chips followed by a nice swamp-leave salad prob’ly filled the bill nicely, thanks… if chocolate had been available, the delicacy for sweets may well have been Barbecued Mars Bars… as far as can be understood, there’s no record of anything in the way of fitness trainers or nutritionists plying their trade 200,000 years or so ago… it may well be that the primary eating concern back then was not to be part of a T-Rex’s lunch… so, fast forward to the ‘Enlightened Age’ of the current millennium… I do know that many of yeez pride yourselves in looking after yer physical well-being, and I applaud that… some others may be a tad less concerned with the Slob-look/No-Slob-look choice, and I equally have no contest with that… umpteen marathons run on one spot on machines in a gymnasium are a personal choice, as are ‘pumping iron’ and pumping any other such elements … do so to yer heart’s content… you will find no argument from me… where I do have an issue is with the perpetual sequence of ‘lifestyle advice’ from the endless succession of ‘expert’ medical WURLD gurus… Health Warnings can be a danger to yer Health… well-intended they may be, but cohesive they are not… one month the message tells me eggs are bad for me… a month later sumb’dy else states that eggs are the best stuff to stuff into yer stuff… sugar, confections, fats, non-fats, carbo-bluudy-hydrates, proteins, anti-teins, glutens, exercise, non-exercise, alcohol, non-alcohol… they all have their advocates one minute, then the next, the diametrically opposite views… y’see, for more than a lot of years, I’ve eaten pretty much whatever I fancy… my epicurean tastes range from fine dining at Mcdonalds (double cheeseburger, extra large fries, tons of mayo, and a DIET coke, thanks) all the way to slumming it over truffles and mille feuille at the Dorchester Grill Room… when I ultimately take up my reservation at the Big Dining Room in the Sky, I’ll bequest my carcass to scientific medical posterity… I’m certain when they open me up they’ll find in my DNA an indication of ancestral gorging on dinosaur steaks and chips… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!…

…Authors, when Amazon pages pander to yer masterpieces, don’t just admire them, use them! …#TBSU…

…being a self-published scribbler begs yer attention daily… as the author, proof-reader, editor, promoter, Kindle-formatter, and chief general dogsbody for yer own WURK, it behoves yeez (dontcha LUV that WURD, ‘behoves’?) to constantly engage in doing sum’thing, however small, every day to advance yer business of writing… most of it yeez have to divine yerselves… doing Guest Posts for fellow Lads and Lassies of Blog Land’s pages… supporting other Tweeters and FaceBookies, Google+ers and LinkedIn-ers, Tumblr-ers and Stumbleupon-ers, etcetera-ers, etcetera-ers, etcetera-ers… running Amazon Kindle promo page interventions… oh, yes, and actually doing some writing (remember that stuff?) on yer latest opus or yer own blogs… but every now and then along comes a wee bonus… the programmed messages from the Great God Amazon Kindle, where they make the Recommendations of the Day… and in the finest tradition of vanity publishing, they quote yer very own wee babies as their choices of the hour… of course they do it for everybody, Mabel, but that’s not the point... the point this ol’ Jurassic has picked up is this: by giving yeez Amazon page mileage, they are also handing yeez a gift-wrapped excuse to bang that page all over yer SOSYAL NETWURKS… none of yer hide-yer-light-under-a-bushel nonsense here!… if some bloke on the street saw fit to recommend yer book to sumb’dy else, yeez would be tickled pink… so when Amazon institutionalises the recommendations, no better platform exists on the Web to shout it from the rooftops… pick that huckleberry up, cut and paste it to yer heart’s content, and let the WURLD know about it… I do it shamelessly… and here’s the other thing… my pals on here seem  to LUV it… they share it around too… and I do the same when theirs appear... to give yeez a visual, here’s what the last one looked like, and how I used it on Facebook… see yeez later,… LUV YEEZ…

 

‘…I’m certain now that Amazon.co.uk is trying to make me feel on top of the world, and yes, I know, I know, I know they send these things to all the authors, but when they list ALL FOUR of your titles, #1, #2, #3 and #4, as recommended daily deals, you don’t half feel good ! Thanks Amazon:Kindle

Self-Publishing Steps To Successful Sales
seumas gallacher

Price: £1.86

SAVAGE PAYBACK
seumas gallacher

Price: £3.18

THE VIOLIN MAN’S LEGACY
seumas gallacher

Price: £3.21

VENGEANCE WEARS BLACK
seumas gallacher

Price: £3.21

As The Crow Flies (The DI Nick Dixon Crime Series)
Damien Boyd

Price: £1.99
Learn more

…Authors, if yeez ever doubt the value and reach of proper SOSYAL NETWURKIN, I’m here to tell yeez otherwise… #TBSU…

…I have no argument with all the good folks on the SOSYAL NETWURKS who wanna expound on what they had for breakfast/lunch/dinner/supper, with resplendent selfies to boot… nor those whose affections for pet cats/puppies/lizards/pterodactyls/goldfish/any-other-coloured-fish/three-humped camels/ result in more album-loads of pictorials in their respective timelines… I can even skim nonchalantly over the complainers/whiners/grumpies who disgorge their moan-of-the-day online… all of these are entitled to their virtual communicative prerogatives… in much the same way it’s my prerogative not to pay them any attention… live and let live… tweet and let tweet… blog and let blog, I say… however, my own approach to this whole business of writing is well-known to yeez LUVLY people who follow this ol’ Jurassic’s ramblings… it’s the ‘WURKIN’ part of SOSYAL NETWURKIN that attracts me… never before in history has it been possible to connect personally to gazillions of Lads and Lassies at the one time… our forerunner quill-scrapers were never endowed with the access we current brigade of self-publishers enjoy… acknowledging the universal ‘given’ that any author, indie or traditionally-published, must do the lion’s share of the marketing and promotional legWURK themselves, this modern Web boon is a scribblers Godsend… of course, I also indulge occasionally in the wee snippets of personal information (which, at my time of life, is hardly gonna trouble the chroniclers of future history books), but I principally focus on getting my writing message out there… at the beginning it was darned hard labour building the NETWURKS, but now the bases are loaded, so to speak, the dividends are gratifying… the huge selling/downloading spikes of the initial launches for my wee crime thrillers passes quickly, but a nice rythym of regular daily sales creeps sweetly across my Amazon sales pages… yeez hang around and get them in bits… a lot of little makes a lot… so, Authors, if yeez ever doubt the value and reach of proper SOSYAL NETWURKIN, I’m here to tell yeez otherwise… hang in there, WURK yer SOSYAL links… it is worthwhile… in the meantime, yeez can read here about some of the simple stuff that serves me so well…

http://bookShow.me/B00JBL6K80

 

 

…for newbie self-publishing Authors, wary of starting a blog… be unafraid… be very unafraid… #TBSU…

…let me state from the outset, I can be as biased as the next guy… at my age, this ol’ Jurassic doesn’t have to be too concerned about the WURLD’s opinions of my WURK… I am as capable of passing judgments as anyone… but I’ve also learned, that the most important person to please in anything I undertake is me… NUTHIN else really matters… with no false modesty (we never did false modesty growing up in Docklands, Govan in Glasgow), I like what I scribble these days… could my stuff bear improvement?… of course it can… but there comes a point where the ‘improvement phase’ can swamp any creativity an author started out with… stop ‘improving’ when the masterpiece is at a level you like… I’m not by nature a nit-picker, but if I looked hard enuff, I’m certain I could find wee things to ‘improve’ in the acknowledged classic novelists… but I don’t… the next person who writes the perfect book will be the first one ever to achieve that… the same thing applies to the current thrust of ‘blogs to admire’… I see far too many folks trying to be sum’thing other than themselves with their blogs… scared to appear gauche… frightened to come across as ’wrong’… let me enlighten yeez… yer blog is yer own soapbox… fashion it as yeez like… use it to propagate your own ‘Author’s Brand’… for newbie self-publishing Authors, wary of starting a blog… be unafraid… be very unafraid… at the click of yer mouse yeez can link yer blog to every SOSYAL NETWURK channel yeez choose… start to develop the platforms for yer genius… we Lads and Lassies of Blog Land toil too long and too assiduously not to deserve the best chance to shine in as many corners of the Web as can be reached… so be not afraid to venture onto that dark Web… rather, rage yer way there… and enjoy… see yeez  later… LUV YEEZ…

Blog Scratchers Corner

#TBSU

Blogs To Follow

http://writerskaboodle.blogspot.com

http://clancytucker.blogspot.com.au

http://www.seumasgallacher.wordpress.com

http://www.juleswakewriter.co.uk

…share around and enjoy…

…to my Author Muse… where do yeez go to my LUVLY?… with apologies to Peter Sarstedt… #TBSU…

…some of yeez of a certain age may recall in the late ‘sixties a gentleman who rejoiced in the name of Peter Sarstedt, he of the elegantly hirsute physiognomy… one of his best known lyrics asked (I suppose of a romantic liaison or other), ‘where do yeez go to my LUVLY?’… and his aim ‘to get inside her head’… well, chacun a son gout and all that… these days, the reverse applies with this ol’ Jurassic pondering of my Author Muse, why she doesn’t more regularly frequent the inside of my head… many of my scribbling pals on here share from time to time how and where they go to muster up the inspiration for their various masterpieces… I’ve become more and more a creature of habit (mostly good and innocent habit, I plead)… if yeez click on the wee sidebar thingy here yeez’ll see the Jumeirah at Etihad Towers Hotel, whose 5-and-a-bit-more-star lobby I haunt on the mornings when I wanna do my Greta Garbo gig… to ‘be alone’ and wander round my mind whilst tapping away vigorously at the laptop… other writers indulge a four-hour single-cuppa-coffee stint at the local Starbucks, wedged among sundry lookalike wannabe future Rowlings-es and Steinbecks-es… I know of some who prefer a home cubby-hole with heavy metal bursting their eardrums… then there’s the soothing classical music or crooning balladeer fans doing their softer, gentler summoning of their respective Muses… whatever WURKS, I say, go for it… there’s as many different Muses as there are quill-scrapers out there… (just a passing thought… p’raps they have a meeting place to go to of their own… a Muses-eum?)… meantime, whilst yeez ponder my nonsense, have a listen to Master Sarstedt… he was actually very listenable… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ…

 

…a real treat… Author John W. Howell graces the Guest Blog slot today… #TBSU…

…among many superb friends who populate my virtual WURLD, Author John W. Powell is a shining light… he’s popping a terrific wee short story on here as a taster for yeez as to the man’s writing talent… enjoy, then have a look at his new novel, MY GRL…

JOHN W. POWELL

…some of yeez may know that John W. Howell of Fiction Favorites has published his first novel titled My GRL… what yeez  may not know, John also dabbles a bit in short story writing… sez he, “It’s a way to take a break from writing a novel and relax…” seems to this ol ‘Jurassic this might be like a busman’s holiday, but whatever works… John has prepared a story for yeez and here it is… oh, and at the end he has put some words about where yeez  can find his book…

Last Night by John W. Howell ©2014

So with nothing better to do, I figured I will stop at Jerry’s place and grab a couple a drinks and a burger. I usually don’t go there on Saturday night since there’s a crap load of amateurs takin’ up what I would consider prime space. Having not spent enough money at Jerry’s to warrant being able to call the shots, seat wise, I try to avoid Saturday if I can. I go through the door, stop and have a look around. There’s the usual weekend crowd alright, hanging on each other like they never had a date before. I squint my eyes against the smoke and can make out four guys by the pool table and looks like a couple a girls fetching drinks. I cross hustling some rubes out of a few bucks off my list, since they will be forever playing eight ball with themselves.

Straight ahead is the bar and I do believe there is a place right in the middle. I get my feet to move in that direction while looking over the other side. The tables all seem jammed with happy drunks. There are buckets of empties on each table and I see the barmaid trying to sell more. She’s not having much luck, since most of these people just spent their last five bucks on this outing. I make it to the chair and hoist myself up and lean on the bar.

“Hey Frank, Jerry says. “Whadda you have?”

“Evening Jerry. Gimmie a double Crown neat and a beer back.”

“Comin’ up.”

I like Jerry’s no nonsense way he handles things. He doesn’t like small talk and gets right to business. I can feel my eyes start to smart from the smoke and wonder how Jerry gets away with letting people kill themselves when it’s clearly been outlawed.

“Here you go Frank. Want me to run a tab?”

“Yeah Jerry I would appreciate that. I intend to have another drink and then a burger.”

“No problem. Give me the high sign when you are ready for another.”

“Will do Jerry. Thanks.”

“For you buddy anything.”

I should mention Jerry and I go back a ways. We were in the Army together and had ourselves a real ball. We could hardly believe we were getting paid for having so much fun. I take a sip of my drink and wait for the hot assed burn in my throat which signals it’s the good stuff. Ah there it is. I take a swig of the beer and am about to believe life is good. I think I’ll wait for the whiskey to get to the brain before making any judgment.

While I’m waiting for the warmth of the Crown to reach my brain, I check out the folk sitting on either side of me. Not a friendly group as they both have their backs turned and are engrossed in some kind of discussion with their neighbor. I figure it is just as well, since I don’t want to go through that old “what do you do” bullshit. I also don’t figure on staying the night, so no use getting into any long discussions about life.

I look down at my Crown and start to wonder what is going to happen tomorrow. It’s Sunday and my daughter wants to come and visit. She lives in Connecticut and we don’t see each other often. It is only an hour’s drive or even less by train, but it seems like a world away. Her husband is a nice enough guy, yet I always wonder if he has someplace important to go when I visit. He never sits still and is on the phone or at the computer. He makes a good living, but it seems to me a person could take an hour to sit and talk. I never had a son and was looking forward to some kind of relationship when he and daughter got married. Never going to happen with him.

I take another pull at my drink and notice the burn has faded. It happens every time. First sip initiation I call it. It’s like the first puff of a cigarette, hits ya hard. I decide to let daughter pretty much have the agenda tomorrow. She and I haven’t really had a chance to talk for a while. I think she blamed me when her mother ran off with that guy with the house on the Hudson. He has a title and the old gal couldn’t resist, but I think daughter always felt I should have done something. Her mother’s sleeping with another guy. What the hell can I do about that?

I’ll just go with the flow. If she wants to go out we will. If she wants to stay in we can do that too. I better think about getting some food in the house. Of course, we can always order in. I need to move on to my drink and let this go. Tomorrow will be what it is. I hope we can somehow patch up whatever is wrong.

For some reason, I feel pretty tired and think I will go ahead and finish my drink. Maybe I’ll just go home and forget the burger. First though I think I’ll just shut my eyes for a minute. My hands feel good as I put my head down.

“Hey Frank what’s the matter you taking a nap? Frank? Frank talk to me. Oh my god. Sophie call 911 quick.”

Bio

John’s main interests are reading and writing. He turned to writing as a full time occupation after an extensive career in business. John writes thriller fiction novels and has a number of short stories published in various on line magazines. One of his short stories has been recognized by Writers digest in the Popular Fiction Writing contest. His thriller fiction novel, My GRL has been published by Martin Sisters Publishing and is available at most e-book locations and Amazon at :

In the US – http://www.amazon.com/My-GRL-John-W-Howell/dp/1625530595/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1388558903&sr=1-1&keywords=My+GRL

In the UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/My-GRL-John-W-Howell/dp/1625530595/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1388974149&sr=1-1&keywords=My+GRL

In Canada: http://www.amazon.ca/My-GRL-John-W-Howell-ebook/dp/B00HV3QECW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394744287&sr=1-1&keywords=my+grl

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/397934

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-grl-john-w-howell/1118199518?ean=2940045582575

 

…a timely re-run on how to deal with internet Trolls… #TBSU…

…seen a few incidences lately on the re-emergence of the Trolls scourge… I did this piece in December 2012…

…IF TROLLS ATTACK YER BLOG, CONFOUND THEM BY LUVVIN’ THE HELL OUT OF THEM… 

…it won’t have escaped yer notice, Mabel, that I hail from Govan in Glasgow…an area not noted for its gracious handling of dispute…not for us from the Docklands area the niceties of gentle persuasion to settle conflict…the famous ‘Glasgow Kiss’... the abrupt coming together of a head butt from the giver’s skull  and the recipients’s nose-bridge area  is well-documented…the adage is, ‘why take months in court, when a swift smack on the mouth renders summary justice more effectively?’…hence, my text today from the Master Gallacher Sunday Pulpit may seem a tad incongruous…HOW TO DEAL WITH TROLLS...if you are on the web for any length of time, sooner or later one of these creatures may surface…no-one has figured out yet any sane reason for them to be alive, other than to cause maximum (and often disgusting) discomfort or outrage to decent people…I was on the receiving end of one such message recently, and my Govan urge boiled up as my instant reaction...I’d rip the bast*ard’s throat out if he/she were in front of me…then, the epiphany landed…the Govan urge is PRECISELY what these vermin want to provoke…what better response then, but to perplex them by doing exactly the opposite?…I replied in the nicest of terms (no, truly, Mabel, I promise you, I did…), wishing them all of the very best things that they could ever wish for themselves…then, I blocked them, so that particular moron’s evil proddings will not bother me again…so there you have it, react by blocking the Troll immediately if you wish, but bouncing back totally in a manner they wouldn’t expect is much more satisfying… and then block them…now, if that particular Troll should ever cross my path in person, revert to the opening of this blog for instruction! …LUV YEEZ …

 

…an ol’ Jurassic Scottish Author’s delusions of adequacy… but at least they’re mine… #TBSU…

…Quote from nobody famous, ‘…if yeez think yeez can do sum’thing, yeez are probably right… and if yeez think yeez can’t, yeez are prob’ly still right…’ I’m back on about reviews here… the double-edged sword for writers… as likely a scourge as a joy… depending on the range of praise or vitriol from the reviewer… as a newbie scribbler a few years back, my day, mood, and, it seemed, entire-future-writing-career hung on these off’rings on the Great God Amazon’s pages of Authorial Judgement… I’ve shared before, the depths of despair I plumbed when one guy gave me a 2 out of 5 stars rating, and blasted my wee masterpiece… then I checked the only other review he had ever done… it was for a John Grisham novel, and he bottom-rated rated him a demeaning 1 star out of 5… it’s not recorded anywhere what Master Grisham thought of that, but I hardly think it would have caused him much angst… it did teach me a lesson… to take all reviews and ratings with a measure of balance… a review is an opinion, not a scientific treatise… the trail of dreadful reviews even today on Amazon for some of History’s acknowledged finest authors’ and authoresses’ WURK makes yeez wonder what kinda mushrooms the reviewers are chewing on… over the past wee while, I’ve come to see the strength in reviews which delve into stuff like plot line, character arcs, narrative flow, and so on… these are many times more valuable to quill-scrapers than the splendidly effusive ‘give this lad 10 stars out of 5’ nonsense which sum’times appear… result? I’ve come to terms with my own delusions of adequacy… I write for me... I try to write the sort of quality stuff I like to read in good authors I’ve read over the years… and I bet you a pound to a penny, most of them did exactly the same… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ...