My family has looked at my blog - possibly the only people who have.
My brother is happy, my mother mildly interested.
My sister is unhappy that I've used my real name on the Internet. Despite the fact that I've used my real name on the Internet since mid-'96, and somehow avoided being the victim of a mad stalker incensed by my half-thought up posts, she insists that I should change my Internet profile to anonymousdontstalkme345@yahoo.com, RIGHT NOW.
I'll think about it.
Maybe.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Friday, March 9, 2007
May as well get started ...
My brother has insisted that I get started on this, so here I am.
Now I don't have anything to say.
Er ...
Ahh ...
Okay. Getting started.
Honest.
You've spotted this Blog among the ... how many now? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? This single voice among the cacophony of millions of ideas and opinions. Glancing at this single page after being subjected to the full range of the informed and insightful, right down to the sites of ill-conceived opinions, those desperately needful for attention, and the downright illiterate.
And the writer still has nothing to say.
The weather here is bright and warm, even though we have slipped into the realm of the truely desperate in regards for our need for rain. I am dreading the future, because the inevitable clipping of the cat's claws is imminent, along with all the trauma - physical and psychological - that event entails.
Still nothing to say. It's like going to the dentist, and having that nagging pain in your left molar faded that afternoon.
A popular superhero, possibly one of the most jingoistic; Captain America, has been offically killed off, for reasons that are murky at best and needlessly pointless at the very worst.
Nope, still nothing to say.
Never fear, I will have something to say. Something absolutely brilliant will stumble from my frontal lobe onto the keyboard and fall flat on it's face onto your screen.
Then many years later, when I am terminally short of cash, and need to write that autobiography, I will realise that I have posted everything that anyone would be remotely interested in for free.
Still nothing to say, but now I have an excuse.
Now I don't have anything to say.
Er ...
Ahh ...
Okay. Getting started.
Honest.
You've spotted this Blog among the ... how many now? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? This single voice among the cacophony of millions of ideas and opinions. Glancing at this single page after being subjected to the full range of the informed and insightful, right down to the sites of ill-conceived opinions, those desperately needful for attention, and the downright illiterate.
And the writer still has nothing to say.
The weather here is bright and warm, even though we have slipped into the realm of the truely desperate in regards for our need for rain. I am dreading the future, because the inevitable clipping of the cat's claws is imminent, along with all the trauma - physical and psychological - that event entails.
Still nothing to say. It's like going to the dentist, and having that nagging pain in your left molar faded that afternoon.
A popular superhero, possibly one of the most jingoistic; Captain America, has been offically killed off, for reasons that are murky at best and needlessly pointless at the very worst.
Nope, still nothing to say.
Never fear, I will have something to say. Something absolutely brilliant will stumble from my frontal lobe onto the keyboard and fall flat on it's face onto your screen.
Then many years later, when I am terminally short of cash, and need to write that autobiography, I will realise that I have posted everything that anyone would be remotely interested in for free.
Still nothing to say, but now I have an excuse.
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