Even given the massive number of followers I have (I think I’ve hit double figures. Almost) I probably don’t need to apologise for the tardiness between this entry and the last. I am going to do so anyway, before proceeding to bore you with excuses, meandering cul de sacs of stories, and more excuses, all of which will most likely stupefy you into clicking away from the page before the third paragraph (if indeed I manage to waffle out that much). However, if you manage to battle through to the end, I promise you’ll find a spectacular treat. Obviously you can cheat and go straight there, but, as my maths teacher used to say “In the long run, you’ll only be cheating yourself”. (Absolutely not true in this case)
Good, now for the excuses. Where to begin? Firstly – I got a new job. I know I know, I only started in my last place about 2 months back, but that was just a stop gap, and nice as it was, I am now gainfully employed in a photography complex in north London. This is great – the place is always full of interesting characters – photographers, animals, children – today I even bumped into Father Christmas in the kitchen. I’m not getting anything this year again apparently, little fascist. Anyway – in an effort to impress I have been staying most nights, trying to look busy. Unfortunately for you guys, my contribution to the great capitalist machinery of the country has in part been to blame for your deprivation of this kind of nonsense.
Then, on top of this – DRAMA – there was a car crash on my road!! I know, EXCITING!!
There I was slouching on the sofa with Gypo the Cat, when I get a knock on the door from my neighbour, telling me to come quick, there’s been a crash… Pausing only to slip on a hoody over my embarrassingly dirty, ripped T shirt, I raced outside down the street to where the blue lights of the police were flashing and a small crowd had gather around a felled telegraph pole. As usual, the ‘fuzz’ were tight lipped; I guess they didn’t want to ruin the whole good cop / bad cop thing they had going on, but they did let slip that the dastardly felon had probably cost the whole street at least 3 or 4 days without internet, or phone. I swear, there was nearly a riot on the street, the old lady from 2 doors down was even warned about her language – I seriously thought I was going to be swept up in some kind of revolt, but instead, realising I was still in my PJ bottoms, and that they had a rather unsightly hole – a little too close to my booty for comfort – I shuffled discreetly back inside to contemplate life with no web.
Having made it this far, I must congratulate you. I was going to keep ploughing on, regaling you with further mundane anecdotes but the cat has just bought me a terrified little frog – I must go rescue it, so it seems, for now, you’ve had a lucky escape.
I’ll be back, and next time, there will be a spectacular treat – I promise!!