Dear providers of ‘content’ with some vague relation to writing that you think I might want to reblog from you: I’m a writer. I make my own content. What you are doing is a bit like coming to the door of my amazing friend Sarah who makes her own chili sauce and offering her a packet of tomato sauce you found on the floor of a fast food restaurant. Except that her chili sauce is superior to my books in that it doesn’t come with too many adjectives in the sex scenes.
Dear person claiming to be a female Lieutenant General looking for a kind, sincere man; I am not a kind, sincere man. Sorry. I am also sorry to hear that your ‘health is regressing by the minute’, as that must be very painful for you. Nevertheless I can be of no help to you getting the money out of Afghanistan. I suggest you use it to buy the attentions of a very expensive gigolo.
Dear sellers of facebook likes: I don’t do facebook. I kind of appreciate your efforts to subvert its evil with your own evil, in the same way that I’d be entertained by seeing a giant octopus fight it out with a dinosaur-headed shark, but frankly I can get giant octopus versus dinosaur-headed shark fights any day of the week on the Syfy Channel and therefore have no need of your substitute.
Dear people who claim to be the United Nations and say that you are willing to give me £3.7 million to eradicate poverty with: I do not think that you are the real United Nations, because the United Nations does not operate out of a P.O. Box in Benin.
Dear SEO company named after an endangered mammal, may your business reproduce as inefficiently as your namesake.