Meh.
Blogging. What's it all about then?
I can hear my reader sighing in despair at the thought of yet another existential waffle from me on why we all do it, and blah blah blah. Well, don't worry. You're not getting one of those.
It's just the whole taking-over-your-life thing, isn't it? Stupid webmarshal won't let me see any comments or profiles from work. So I can't leave ill-thought-out, insensitive remarks on blogs during the day. I can't even look at profiles to see what variety of nutter I'm attracting these days. I have to try and fit it all in of an evening, or at weekends, and it's bloody hard work. So, why don't I just, um, not, or something? Well, because I like it. And you can't make me stop, just like you can't stop me moaning about it. So shut up.
In other news, it's Bank Holiday Monday. It's pissed down for most of the day. I spent most of yesterday sitting on damp grass (but it was totally worth it - a local free music in the park event offered the first sitting-around-drinking-beer-talking-bollocks opportunity of the season, and very welcome it was too), and am worn out after going out an unprecedented five times in the last week (Wednesday, gig. Not drinking. Thursday, night out with best friend, celebrating unforeseen woo! moment in her life. Drinking. Lots. Friday, birthday celebration for colleague. Drinking. Saturday, hen night. Drinking, pussycat costumes, major taxi-related confusion. Sunday, music in the park. Beer, bands and a doughnut stall). I am tired, and it is only Monday. So, what do I choose to do? Blog about how annoying blogging is, then follow it up with nothing to say. Oh, and I'm having a glass or three of wine. Just by way of a change.
Whatever.
I can hear my reader sighing in despair at the thought of yet another existential waffle from me on why we all do it, and blah blah blah. Well, don't worry. You're not getting one of those.
It's just the whole taking-over-your-life thing, isn't it? Stupid webmarshal won't let me see any comments or profiles from work. So I can't leave ill-thought-out, insensitive remarks on blogs during the day. I can't even look at profiles to see what variety of nutter I'm attracting these days. I have to try and fit it all in of an evening, or at weekends, and it's bloody hard work. So, why don't I just, um, not, or something? Well, because I like it. And you can't make me stop, just like you can't stop me moaning about it. So shut up.
In other news, it's Bank Holiday Monday. It's pissed down for most of the day. I spent most of yesterday sitting on damp grass (but it was totally worth it - a local free music in the park event offered the first sitting-around-drinking-beer-talking-bollocks opportunity of the season, and very welcome it was too), and am worn out after going out an unprecedented five times in the last week (Wednesday, gig. Not drinking. Thursday, night out with best friend, celebrating unforeseen woo! moment in her life. Drinking. Lots. Friday, birthday celebration for colleague. Drinking. Saturday, hen night. Drinking, pussycat costumes, major taxi-related confusion. Sunday, music in the park. Beer, bands and a doughnut stall). I am tired, and it is only Monday. So, what do I choose to do? Blog about how annoying blogging is, then follow it up with nothing to say. Oh, and I'm having a glass or three of wine. Just by way of a change.
Whatever.
posted by surly girl at 8:43 pm
6 Comments:
**clinks wine glass with la surl**
i'm not blogging tonight
(probably)
do you think if you tried a 'pole dance' right about now you'd fall over on your wine sotted head?
c'mon try it...I want to see.
uc - cheers!
kyah - shhh! we're not talking about pole dancing any more. more trouble than it's worth, i find...
ah c'mon!
I better mail you.
It's Bank Holiday Monday....Of course it pissed own.
you're working up to another blogging hiatus, aren't you.
i can smell it.
Post a Comment
<< Home