i’m feeling a tad flat right now. the same malaise seems to be afflicting many of the virtual street corners around which i hang: dr socks has had a dr foster-esque moment and stepped into a blog right up to her middle – actually, she’s sick of all the shite and has sat on her arse not blogging for a while (she may perhaps have stated it more elegantly, but you get my drift); witchy woo has had an attack of the ‘what’s the point’s; and my excellent geordie chum sparkle’s lobster has moved to another state of being – i found this strangely moving. and not just because lobsters do move strangely. even the web search terms have become stale and hackneyed with nary a ‘pubed pantie’ nor ‘yong perve’ to amuse me. worse, my great pal dave hasn’t called for ages – some pathetic excuse about formulating policy for the major political party he claims to run (you’d think i’d know about that???). i also have this funny pain in my elbow.
and yet wonderful random bonuses sprout crocus-like around me, as this glorious english spring really hits its straps: the thread below is being written beautifully, surreally and at length by daisy puke, infidel and ehj2 (even though the spam cruncher does not get on with daisy and keeps consigning her innocent comments to the cack box – i assume mine only get through because its ‘my'[?] blog); a mysterious link may have appeared on the blog to the geezer who does clever website stuff (says it’s there but i can’t find it) and may or may not (site looked interesting if a bit too much about computers and other new-fangled stuff for me to read the damn thing) have designed the cutline theme (as used here; but i stuck my own picture in cos i’m well on top of the tech); and tomorrow i get to bang drums with 4 year olds.
i think it must be pixies. hey, you want narrative? – go read the stuff about fish from my three ghostwriters