Well, I'm back. I was back yesterday, but I didn't bother talking to you. Naughty Keir. But I'm here now, that's the main thing, isn't it?
Can anyone tell me what the bloody hell is going on here? Not you Anne, you've seen it.
I quite like the way when I was away I posted little and often - well, ish, and I'm tempted to go more that way at home but I thing I'll fight the urge - I'm suspicious of my motives, and it sounds to me more like a rationalisation for not really making the effort. So I'll try to keep it up - stop sniggering at the back - I may let myself off a bit if I've done some earlier in the day, but not if I haven't.
Whither whither? When did it start to be rather flowery to use the word wither? It was probably a gradual process. Not funny, but true. That's what 'it is what it is' is about. The truth. It's like a newspaper, only trustworthy.
I'm watching The Simpsons on Channel 4. Very nice, but I can't remember the last time I saw one I haven't seen before, even on Sky One at Anne's. Come on you Americans, stop hoarding them! It's like the thing with the Eddie Money records all over again.
You may think this was a rather shoddy piece today, but maybe that's what I want you to think, aaaaah. Maybe I'm lulling you into a false sense of security before a sucker punch of a masterpiece in a day of two. Or maybe not. Can you stand the suspense?
See you around
Butterfly Of The Day: Wild Indigo Dusky Wing Skipper
powered by performancing firefox