I’m a dreadful blogger. I blog and then FOR AGES I don’t blog. And it’s not because I don’t love both my readers, rather that my camera has lost all enamour with my company and decided to stop taking decent photos of anything at all. The fact that I’ve left it silently encased in the dark depths of some courier-type bag for a week I think may have had something to do with its miserablist attitude.
So – sod the camera. Who needs the grumpy bastard when armed with the full force of the English language? Dante never used a camera. Nor Voltaire. Or Confucius for that matter. And just look what they accomplished with this marvellous bastard-hybrid of a lexicon. Oh, hang on a mo. I think I may have made a mistake there….
[Never mind, McNicol! Plough on! This is no time to de doubting yourself in front of your brave and elegant readers!]
….I mean, yes. So. Words are nice. And utilising said power, I shall write one of those “Huh, well, like, this is what I’m doing today” sort of posts.