Hmm. I’m sure my father just called my mother a porky bitch. Perhaps not. In fact I’m sure that he wouldn’t have (sarky witch maybe…. ha ha, didn’t mean it mum). Isn’t hearing a joyous mystery?!? Perhaps not such a mystery if I’d payed attention in Bursary Biology. Hindsight: gotta love it.
Reading Fishboy’s blog today I came across something that struck a chord. How much personal stuff can you write in a journal of this nature? It’s not so much that I’m worried about strangers being able to see into my mind… more a case of being apprehensive about my friends reading what I write. Because, no doubt, there’s plenty to get offended over! And maybe a lot of my friends (for want of a better word…) are unaware of the vast, disturbing depths of my dark and evil side. Mwah hah hah…
Yes, anyway. It is a bit of a concern. Who do I give this address out to? So, dear readers, if you were guided to this site by my fine self I trust that you’ll take little offence, as a good deal of this is a load of bullshite, and the real stuff may well be thinly disguised with changed names and suchforth… you have been warned. Feel free to leave a disparaging or congratulatory comment, or condemning, consoling, convincing, just plain conning…
Ta da for now, sweet minions.
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