A while ago I signed up with Google Plus or Google+ or whatever the fuck you call it.
God knows. I suppose it was like Everest – it was there.
Those of you who have been following my musings on the Interweb may remember that I joined Facebook ages ago. I have never used it, or certainly have never used it in the way I was supposed to use it. I just left it there so that it could send me annoying mails about who wanted to befriend me.
Anyhows, back to Google Plus.
That turned out to be just as annoying. As well as getting endless mails from Facebook, I’m now getting endless mails from Google as well. A couple of days ago, I realised I hadn’t actually visited Google Addition in ages so I decided to have a look.
The cunts have suspended me,
They have decided that I am not who I say I am but that I am somebody else. How the fuck they come to that conclusion, I don’t know, but there you go. I’m suspended. Now, I’m not quite sure why they are telling me. Surely they should be writing to that other person who they think I am?
Just to play along with their fantasies, I have changed my name to my real name. Instead of Grandad Himself, I am now Grandad Fartzalott. In the interests of modesty, I have left out my title.
The story of the Fartzalotts goes back a long time, but basically Sir Edwin Fartzalott came to Ireland some centuries ago and settled down for the quiet life. Unfortunately for him, one night he was attacked, beaten and raped by the notorious Grainne Clancy who duly became pregnant. She forced him to marry her at the point of a double-barrelled twelve bore pitchfork, and the Irish Fartzalott Dynasty began. For some reason that I never understood, the knighthood only passes to the second son, but who is to argue with tradition? My second grandson [Sir Tom Fartzalott] is now carrying on the family knighthood. I may have mentioned him from time to time, but he’s only a year old, so there isn’t much to write about. My daughter insists on using a different spelling for the name [she calls him Fartsalot] which is something I intend to speak to her firmly about.
So there you have it.
I have been exposed, and I’m not happy about it.
But I’m damned if I’m going to let Google get the better of me.