Spam on Facebook.

There is a continuing problem with spam on Facebook and this pic is an example. One needs to watch for the contents of the sharp section in the accompanying screenshot within this note.  The red x's mark the entry. If you click it you are led to a black screen which invites you to prove that you are human. This thing first appeared on my page about six weeks ago and I was almost tripped up. I had to change all my passwords. The original post was bogus, that was confirmed by the friend who was supposed to have posted it.

I came across the same posting on two friends FB pages and managed to delete the one. The other is said to be deleted but I still pick it up on my pc. To me this can be serious.

Unfortunately, and this is most annoying, it is difficult to report the problem to Facebook admin. Searching for a 'contact us' facility sends one around in frustrating circles. I now know how to climb a wall with no movement whatsoever. 

If anyone knows how to get the message through to Admin, please copy and paste this note and send it on.

Lastly, if you come across a post that you are unsure of, delete it.

Save that Bra

All is peaceful. My wife is relaxing in front of the television and I am in my favorite spot, in front of my computer, engrossed. Suddenly a black face is peering at me in the doorway, Baxter, with a flesh coloured bra clenched between his teeth. Damn the dog.

It is normally a frustrating procedure to persuade the dog to relinquish 'his' possession. He retrieves, but on his own terms. If I put my hand out, he'll pull back. If I chase him I'll be left for dust. On the other hand my wife does not want any holey modification to her underwear. I suddenly have a bright idea.

Jumping up I yell, "bra alert," and make a dash for the garage, Baxter hammering after me, still clenching his prize. I grab the mower and wheel it quickly onto the grass. He wheels around, dropping the bra. More fun to be had chasing me pushing the mower. I grab the opportunity and run to pick up the garment. There, no holes, just dust and dirt.

Baxter's adrenalin is pumping now, circling the mower at a pace, trying to out-bark the noise he thinks will be made when I start the engine. I push the mower back into the garage and the dog loses interest.

Thank goodness, another bra saved.