I am in Latin now, doing a very, very sad thing. Yes, I am drafting out my post for le blog. I have begun to think that perhaps this blogging malarky has taken over my life. Slightly. Or, well, actually, a lot. Where ever I go, whatever I do, I think about one thing. And it's not God. Or sex. Or even anything remotely interesting, like teacups. Nope, it's just blogging.
The worst of it, though, is that I don't even particularly like blogging all that much any more. It used to be original, and differnt, but noweveryone is une owner of a blog, so mine is just a boring, run-of-the-mill recount of my not-too-interesting day. Occasionally, you get a badly informed opinion on something that I don't actually know anything about, but go on about it anyway. And now and again, there's a relatively funny - well, anything is funny in comparison to my usual mindless chit-chat.
Actually.
It's just jealousy.
I am damn envious of all those literary geniuses who can just compile a coherent, but also informative and amusing entry, with just a few seconds thought (I just want to note, at this juncture, that my nice black biro has run out, and I have been forced to scribe in this awful blue pilot thing. I can't believe that I have to work in these conditions. So, yeh, if you want to buy my presents - and really, who wouldn't - then I'd like a few hundred PaperMate flexgrip biros (medium). It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks).
Emma is sitting next to me, looking suitably depressed. As you would, having a face like that. No, I'm kidding, she has a lovely face. For a goat. Yeh. We just waved at each other in a spacky way. Which was nice.
I really dislike Latin.
That reminds me: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVER! Wow, I used an exclamation mark. I never use those, feel honoured, Daniel, darling. Actually don't, I don't like exclamation marks; they are for morons. Not that you are a moron (even though you are of Hamptonian type - a nice one though).
I don't like Troy.
Emma is alright, I supposed. But not Troy.
No comments:
Post a Comment