Monday, September 20, 2010

It's All Fun And Games Until Someone Gets Hurt...

…is just our diabolical way of getting your attention so we can talk about an issue that is near and dear to us both: Comments.

Or more precisely: Commenter Problems. We beg you to bear with us as we sort this out with you. We love getting comments. Of course, every blogger does. But we’ve always seen our blog as a meeting-ground for likeminded (or at least, likeable) people and want the Chautauqua-members to keep chatting, as it were, and for them to not meet with frustrations as their comments seem to post then don’t, as the ugly captcha phrase at the bottom of the screen shows up out of sight and undermines their efforts, or as the Blogger boogeyman refuses to let them post at all because of obtuse i.d. issues. And all this inevitably happens after our (very dear) reader has gone to all the trouble to write a comment in real-time on the site.

Thanks to a resolute group of readers and friends, we have learned that there are two major issues: either getting a workable i.d. with which to post, or getting the post to stick.

For the first issue, it seems having a Google i.d. is the easiest. If the bugs continue, you can try another browser (Firefox seems to have the most compatibility problems with Blogger; Safari seems good for Mac users, and IE for PCs). Or (in one successful example) try re-setting your Google i.d. password.

For the second issue, we’ve tinkered extensively with the Blogger settings and hope this will help. There is no more captcha feature––which is designed to reduce spam. If we get a lot of spam, we may re-install, but for now we’re going to take our chances.

Here’s the fun and games part. Would you please please please humour us and come along for a bit of a ride so we can assess if any of you continue to have problems? Until our next post on Wednesday, would you mind trying to post just a one-line comment? We can fun it up by playing the comments like that old game where each sentence is a continuation of the last one, in a kind of random free-for-all story. If you need to try a few times to get it to post (like a few of our great readers), could you add that in parentheses to your post-attempts?

The more of you who participate, the more idea we have if we’ve worked out the kinks. If you’ve never posted before, think of it as a chance to break your commenting cherry. If you’re a regular, feel free to add to the story as many times as you’d like.

If it’s still no fun and nothing works, would you mind letting us know at “radeckiritesatgmaildotcom” (with the appropriate symbols, of course)?

And, please, nobody get hurt. Thank you so much.

Love, Deb and Barbara

41 comments:

  1. I am glad you have taken off comment verification - I did a long time back and haven't really been spammed (keep on comment moderation for posts over 4 days- it is the older posts that are targeted).

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  2. Ahhh, that makes sense. Thanks, Rayna!

    Shall I kick off a story-line?

    Okay, here goes:

    She didn't remember how she got there.

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  3. She knew she had been there before, as it all seemed familiar in a gauzy way.

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  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  5. She heard bells chiming in the distance.

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  6. they were very loud and rather obnoxious...

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  7. ...as church bells for an ex-boyfriend's wedding tended to be.

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  8. (And commentus interruptus - I'm sorry you guys are having problems. I've never heard of anyone else having had so persistent problems, but hopefully the no-word verification and no-Firefox (Chrome is GOLDEN) will help. Good luck!)

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  9. All of this made her very bad mood even worse as she snarled and reached for a can of soda.

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  10. then recalled she didn't drink soda. She glanced down. She wore fishnets and red stiletto pumps. She recalled she didn't wear those either...

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  11. She muttered a string of vile expletives and decided that misery does, indeed, love company as she set out to wreak vengence and suffering upon anyone whose stupidity or hatefulness had ever brought her harm.

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  12. So she abruptly stood and walked out of the room.

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  13. She broke the heels off her stilettos so she could run and fight more efficiently.

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  14. Heck to him...let him marry her was not my type anyway.... now where are my flip flops and surf board...the ocean swells from Hurrican Igor are calling me.

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  15. Speaking of swells, her mind wandered to Anthony Wingham. Now there was a real swell!

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  16. And, David Tennant could cure what ails her, too.

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  17. (oh, and the comment I tried to enter an hour ago didn't go through)

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  18. *looks around empty room* *gets bored* *carries on story by myself* Grabbing her surfboard and wading into the ocean, Cornelia (I named her!) rode the waves while trying to decide whether there was more power inherent to becoming a superhero or a supervillian. All that mattered was never being a victim again (and getting to snog David Tennant).

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  19. although the sun was beaming into her eyes, she thought she saw, as the wave broke it's swell, a form in the water just ahead.

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  20. I have ever had any problems getting my comments to say or posting. Just one more suggestio though. If you have trouble getting into your google ID and posting,if you have a Twitter account you can try signing in from there. I use to do it and was fine. If you don't have a twitter account just go in and make one even if you do not tweet and that way you can sign in from there and still comment here. Hopefully that makes some sence.

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  21. Sorry I miss typed some words. It's my dumb keybord not me.!!!!!!!!!!!! really.

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  22. (Thanks, Lyndsie, totally makes sense)

    As the swells pushed the form closer and closer, Cornelia reached into her bra and pulled out one of the stiletto heels she'd broken off on her way out the door.

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  23. Cornelia, wife of craggy Cornelius, daughter of jowly Cornettium.

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  24. "Friend or Foe?" Cornelia shouted over the waves as she crouched into a fighting stance on her surfboard while clutching the stiletto heel in her hand like a tanto dagger.

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  25. "Unlikely to be around long enough for you to tell!" a voice yelled back.

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  26. Huhg... who said that ? she asked

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  27. The stranger splashed by and became irrelevant while Cornelia road a wave toward shore all the while wishing she could summon oceanlife friends like Aquaman.

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  28. *impatient sigh*

    Distracted by the growling of her hungry tummy, Cornelia didn't notice the rude stranger coming ashore further down the beach - rendering him once again relevant and, indeed, potentially dangerous.

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  29. But as she got closer to the rude stranger - she realized he was holding a peanut butter and jelly s/w so she changed her demeanor while planning on disengaging the right hand w/ the sandwich...
    (not letting me post my InnerGiggler address - so again I'm anonymous)

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  30. "Look over there!" she yelled to the stranger, pointing towards the horizon. She grabbed the sandwich and made a dash towards the township.

    *Interesting to hear that the problems stem from Firefox, I use firefox and have never had a problem... unless you mean using a google or blogger I.D. and Firefox, I have neither so I just stick with Annonymous and sign my name at the end :-)

    Elle

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  31. "Darn!" she thought as she unwrapped the sandwich while scurrying toward town, "Crunchy not creamy!" She tossed the sandwich back toward the rude stranger and made a break for it when he paused to catch it. She was on a quest for mushroom pizza.

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  32. I've never had any problems posting here at all, but USING blogger myself, I think I hammered them out, for the most part. Sometimes, on some blogs, it pops to the top so I don't know a password is required... that annoys me (I don't think here does that), and I've had a couple sites that just LOSE me, but it seems they are ones with a lot of functions (McLinkys and such) so I think the processor just doesn't like all that going on at once.

    I turned off my password function and have not had a speck of spam. I still have readers who have trouble now and then (or so I hear on facebook), but I think getting rid of the password covered the majority of annoyance.

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  33. It wasn't until she had the mushroom pizza firmly in hand (and partially in mouth) before she realized that she recognized the rude stranger after all -- it was her ex-husband ... in his wedding tuxedo.

    (thanks, Hart -- I've eliminated some of our functions in a hope that might help further) (and, Elle, do you have a blog you can link to?)

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  34. (Dang, I was hoping it'd end up being David Tennant. Of course, then we would've devolved into geek erotica, so it's probably better this way.)

    Sitting at the pizza counter, Cornelia pondered her situation. Luckily, the ocean had torn away the tattered remains of the fishnet stockings. While tidying up her clothes and hair in the pizza parlor bathroom, she'd found a $20 bill tucked into her bra with which she'd bought the pizza and could acquire a minimum of necessities until she found her way home. The surfing had cleared her head, and fuzzy memories of the night before were returning conjuring the ghosts of margaritas past. She was angry at the world, angry at her ex, and angry at herself. What did he want? And, did she care? Cornelia heard the bell of the pizza parlor door jangle, and in walked her ex. If she were a cat, her hackles would've risen.

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  35. She raced back for the Ladies', quite prepared to remain there for the remainder of the evening... maybe even beyond closing time if she could get away with it.

    *No Barbara, I don't have a blog. I'm more of a blog reader than writer, I don't find myself with much time (or interesting things to write about) to write by the time I've gone through and read all my favourite blogs (this being one ;-) )

    Elle

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  36. Then, she berated herself, "No! I am not a coward! I am a warrior! An avenger!" She turned and strode out into the restaurant with her chin up. Her ex, Hinton, walked up to her, wrapped his hand around her left wrist, and smiled, "Hey, Baby." She stared down at his hand on her wrist and calmly, quietly growled, "Don't touch me. You forfeited the right to touch me long ago."

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  37. *frowns ... it's been 4 hours ... carries on*

    Cornelia eased her left foot back ever so slightly and gently flexed her knees. Hinton did not let go but instead stepped closer into her personal space. "Corrie, I couldn't marry Gloria today. I realized that I never should've left you. Please take me back, darling." Cornelia looked into Hinton's face, slid her right hand over his wrapped over her left wrist and curled her fingers around the meat of his hand while slightly twisting her wrist trapped in his grip. He smiled confidently thinking she was caressing his hand. "So, you are a habitual a**hole, now? First you break my heart. Now hers? Why would I ever subject myself to your cruel whims again?" With that, she pivoted her hips and stepped forward with her left foot, torquing Hinton's wrist into a devastatingly painful lock while declaring, "I said stop touching me." Hinton cried out, fell to his knees, and whimpered, "But, I love you." Cornelia tightened the wrist lock but stopped short of tearing soft tissue and cracking bones. She deadpanned, "And, I loved you. Welcome to past tense." With that, she released his wrist. Hinton stayed curled on the floor cradling his hand to his belly as Cornelia walked out of the pizza parlor with a noble jaunt to her step.

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  38. Cornelia could've interpretted their song as a mournful funeral dirge for loves past. Instead, she chose to hear them as the triumphant theme song of the new superheroine on the block: Stiletto.

    But, her superhero costume would NOT include fishnet stockings.

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  39. Bravo, Rigel, for taking us to the finish!! Stiletto will yet save the wold.

    (PS, and thanks, Elle, for your sweet words :) )

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