Oh, you massive meff

I'd typed the greatest, most incisive piece of political commentary this dirty little planet has ever seen. Machiavelli would have swooned. Voltaire would have slit his wrists. But, like a giant idiot, I navigated away from the page, and the auto-restore won't work. So, instead of the small slice of history you would have witnessed, you'll have to make do with a picture of the cat.







Yeah, she's got 3 legs. Yeah, she's in a frankly pornographic pose. But she'd BATTER YOU.

*Knockturne - Bonnie Prince Billy*

This is a blog...

...that has been created due to boredom. I usually don't have anything of interest to say, so anyone insane enough to read this on a semi-regular basis can look 'forward' to ill-focused rage, vague puerility and, er, stuff. Basically, expect sub-Charlie Brooker meanderings, except when I say sub, I'm talking Mariana Trench depths. Actually, is self-depecration still in? Have I even spelt that right? Should I have typed spelled instead of spelt?

Yes. That.

So... I don't really read blogs. Twitter seems to fill my e-stalking quota. I say 'stalking', I really mean 'celebrity moaning about this that and the other', with an e at the front. Really, Alan Davies? THANKS FOR THAT. Anyway, the upshot being I don't know how the initial blogpost in a... blog should be set out. Do I introduce myself? Retain an air of mystery for the 7 unfortunate souls who accidentally stumble upon it? Reveal deepest secrets, my mother's maiden name and the name of my first pet? How about a mixture, with a list of stuff - match them to whatever you think. If you can be arsed, which given that you'll only feel a sense of time wasted afterwards, is unlikely. Still, I designate it A Special Fun Game! (note: my mother's maiden name is not included)

Michael Palin
26
The Delgados
Everton
Holland, 1945
L8
Mombasa
2
Whatever comes my way
Anchorman. Obviously
Long paragraphs
Cheese on toast
Gomez
Impunity

Oh, alright, her name was Impunity.

Anyway, I'm bored now, and I really can't imagine anyone's read this far, so I'm probably typing to myself. I can see this becoming some kind of bizarre psychological exercise. Ta-ta, lovey!


*Baby Love Child - Pizzicato Five*