Down the rabbit hole

As per usual, when one writes something detailing a differing opinion to someone who thinks he's an expert, the wee little hipster-mateys with all that spare time (and oh so many pent-up insecurities)on their hands come barraging in with a torrent of nonsensical comments. You know who you are.
Firstly and foremostly, I have to register my surprise that so many people seem to think that my being 1. a woman and 2. 23 years old are reasons enough to refute anything I have to say. I've said it before: I'm not in this because I'm either 23, or a woman. Some of you also seemed to think it appropriate to suggest that I might not be as opinionated if I got laid. Well, I can assure you - being married I have a more stable and regular sexlife than most, and I was opinionated even before that. I find this an interesting phenomenon. I've never come across an instance of when a woman would disagree with a man (and I'm making the presumption that these comments come from men) and proceed to suggest that his erroneous opinions might be modified should he indulge in a bit of naughty.
Also, some of you have managed to dig up an old photo of me, sitting in a flowered dress under the Bloom chandelier, and suggested that it's a dated look and that I instead of writing blog posts update my sense of style. Well, I'm very sorry to have to explain our not-so-subtle sense of humour to you: My name is Linnéa (as in the twinflower), I work at Bloom, and my dress has flowers on it. Haha. Dimwits. We're not Vogue magazine. We're a restaurant.

Whatever the purpose of these comments are, I unfortunately have to inform you that it's all a bit beyond me. Am I supposed to be offended? Scared? Well, I'm neither. At the most you've provided us with quite a few good laughs. Try taking me on for what it is I'm writing about instead, will you. Anything else does you down.

(There have been a total of 5 serious comments to the last two posts. 5 out of 35. I will respond to these as soon as I have time)