Who would have thought, just a few short weeks ago, this pointless mumbling staggered into being - coughed, farted, scratched it's bum and rubbed the sleep out of it's eyes. Gazing out through the screen , it saw a sad, worn out, broken and bored little man, naked except for a tutu, slurping from a vase full of Red Bull, and tapping aimlessly at a keyboard. Blog quite liked the sensation of having his keys stroked, and so decided to hang around for a while, little knowing that others would happen across him and keystroke him too. Doubts crossed his mind when he saw images of those responsible for the keystrokes, but felt that any attention was better than no existence at all.
As the days passed, he started to wonder how to celebrate his life, and in a moment of particular optimism, reckoned that if he were to get as far as 50 posts, he would perhaps edit a post himself. Fifty came and went quicker than expected, and then the optimism really kicked in and he decided to go for the big 100.
AND HERE IT IS!
Oh, what joy!
And yet, even now, doubt crosses his mind.
What next?
Is this it?
What is the true reason for his existence?
And then he realised.
Cake, Deuchars. petrol, stupidity.
Did there need to be more?
Probably not.
Spark one up for me, Granny.
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