She was a delightful snob.

I get pressure. To not write about certain things. Which means I’ll more than likely write about them. Because I don’t like to be browbeat. I show my independence. Doing as I please. Though I do make exceptions. For my Italian true love, for instance. Not always. But some of the time. Anyway, writing a blog is my sort of thing. Because I’m composing it all. Without an editor. Gives me a true sense of freedom. Oh, I do edit myself. I have standards. Of decency. I’m not totally unrestrained. When my blog first started five or six years ago, a group of ladies  I dubbed ‘snobs’ tried to edit me. Tried to tell me how to write. And what to write about. And not write about. But that didn’t stop me from doing it all my own way. The ladies have disappeared. Crawled back into the gutter, or wherever it was they came from. Actually, they were a rather comical lot. One even admitted to being a clown. Dressed up as one. With painted face and all. She  was a delightful snob. Think she went by the name Maebe. Wonder whatever happened to her. –Jim Broede