Ah, spiffingmiffingpimpetypunkle … I hate Bod.  Yes, you heard correct.  I hate Bod.  You can see my page on Bod here.  This page has been online for over a year [well, approximately] in its changed form, done to appease the solicitors.  Presumably the new page that has been online for over a year [well, approximately] did appease the solictors because they never e-mailed me back spanking me again for being so naughty.  Never again did they threaten me with legal action.  To me this says that they’re happy that I’m doing nothing wrong, no?  They would have looked again, yes?

Well, this evening I arrived home following my driving lesson [oooh, I went round a roundabout!] and discovered an e-mail in my inbox.  I shall paste it for your viewing pleasure, totally unedited …

Dear Katie

My brother just drew my attention to your website page on Bod. As you know, we wrote and illustrated Bod’s Way as a tribute to both our parents. We are surprised that you have reacted so strongly to our wishing to protect our copyright. You yourself have copyrighted your website and I presume you would not want people to use its design or content without your permission.

You are mistaken in thinking that this is about money – such books make very little money indeed. We always respond with interest to any third-party proposals to use Bod, and have happily co-operated with a number of fansites to date (all of them non-profit) – without requesting payment – and they have obliged by reproducing material with the proper credits and copyright information. You are quite wrong to compare our motives with that of a big corporation. We are four siblings attempting to protect our mother’s and father’s creations – and doing it because we care about Bod and his integrity.

We’d appreciate it if you would rethink your website words.


Alison Cole

So, numero uno, my name isn’t Katie and, had they chosen to look at the rest of the site, they would have known this [and also would have worked out what a wonderful young lady I truly am].  Secondly, I have always made sure that the credit goes to them.  Threesome, I would draw their attention to the fact that I don’t actually give a sod if anybody takes anything of mine because it’s worth nothing anyways and the copyright symbol is there purely tongue-in-cheek [which tends to ache after a while, as well as making you look a bit demented to passers-by].  Forthright, I would like to enquire as to why her brother is unable to write to me.  Fifthly, I hope her parents were Buddhist otherwise they can’t be happy with the book.  And finally, I cared about Bod.  I loved Bod.  I wanted to share my love with the rest of the world.  But I don’t like Bod’s attitude anymore even though I did precisely what Bod’s solicitors asked me to do over a year ago [well, approximately].. 

Is this e-mail a threat?  Should I respond?  Should I tell her the truth [the truth is silent and can’t be repeated in a non-protected post, *chuckle*]?  Should I change it to Dob and change big corporation to family business?  Would that be fairer?  Should I just cut-and-run and put something else on the page?  Like, my new character Dob.  What shall Dob be like?  Suggestions?  Maybe he could be pink?

Bod must die.  Dob must live. 

And why the feck do I care anyway?

Please help!

Today has been a bad [noseless] day.  And this was despite managing to escape the evil clutches of the receptionist with her can of red hair dye stuff spray thing.  When I arrived home from my driving lesson [oooh, I went at 50mph!] there was a pile of Private & Confidential letters sitting on the coffee table.  The first one I opened jovially proclaimed, As you are aware we have overpaid you … and now we want the money back.  Eh?  Overpaid?  Well, yes, upon looking at my contract it appears I have.  But I’m a bit riled that they thought I was already aware.  And I’m a bit peeved about the way they want me to pay it back.  Grrr.  Bah!  Humbug!  Stupid County Council.

I was happy till I arrived home.  I must go and drink vodka now. 

And she is tired, she told me.  And you won’t worry because she’s coming to live near me, she said so.  [Sorry, just having a conversation with someone, just ignore my ramblings.]

Isn’t it terrible when your day begins so nice but ends so shittily? 

please God bless the Bod family and the county council xxx Elsabeth


  1. Oh, *hugs*  I’ve declared a moratorium (is that the right word?) on Red Nose Day, and I’m watching Land Girls.  Shall have a G&T with you, in sympathy. ~x~

  2. I detest corporations (and family businesses) who have a fit when we use their images!  [I’m waiting for Disney to contact me concerning my screen-name (shh! Don’t tell them!)]  I think a pink Dob would be lovely! (but I have to admit that I have no idea what Bod is…)
    I don’t think the county council should have assumed you knew you were overpaid!  How rude! Just forget about them – they obviously don’t know you at all!!
    Have a drink for me — I’ll have one for you (provided I can convince Kevin to go to the club tonight…)

  3. I think you should put something really extremely sarcastic up there.  Show the bastards who’s boss.
    On the other hand… I wouldn’t want you to get sued.

  4. Ha, I’d respond along the lines of “well, tis my site, my copyright and they’re my thoughts. Free speech (innit?!)… I’ve never proclaimed Bod to be anything of my own.. blah blah blah”.I’m sure you could word that better than me early on a Saturday morning.I’d just remove Bod full stop and leave it thus. If they don’t want the promotion, tis up to them.So, now you’ve practised one roundabout, are you coming over my way to practise them on a regular basis?? You can’t drive here without having to use one… be it mini or maxi!

  5. Awh. *hugs* I hope you’ve downed plenty of vodka martinis by now. I haven’t a clue what those little red persons on your site is or who Bod is—to be frank.
    Tis the season to be accidentally overpaid by error, isn’t it??? Yes your baby brother would have a ball here.

  6. If it were untrue..would they even bother you with an email?  Sounds to me like you struck a cord….and you know what that means? 

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