The End of the Blog

Warning: This entry is entirely pointless!

Well folks, this is supposed to be it.

"Not so!" I hear you cry (but oh so faintly).

As I said, "supposed to be". The school project is over and indeed it has gone terribly, terribly wrong. For I find myself reluctant to stop. But I can quit anytime I want. Really. I'm no thirtysomething media addict.

It's interesting. I still tend to consider blogging to be a sort of mental masturbation, really: You may enjoy it but after a while you start to think that it would be nice to have someone on the other end.

But I seem, for some odd reason, to have developed a following, of a sort. There are people who, God help 'em, have nothing better to do than read my mumbled maunderings. Of course I also read the blogs of those who read mine: mutual admiration. . .or possibly honour among thieves.

But let's not pretend that my reluctance to knock it off and subside gracefully into the gaping silence of cyberspace has anything to do with "the fans".

So whither have I wandered as I pandered. . .sorry, that's "pondered"--or is it?

Are you getting your full Marx?

I was getting P.O'd when I suddenly found myself P.I.'d. Me and the PI were getting pie-eyed, when we decided to pause for pie. The PI had to pee, so I perched in place and pondered the percentage of people who can't prove the value of pi.

Boy, I'm getting pissed! Actually, it seems I couldn't possibly be. Perhaps I need some pringles?

Hmmm. No Pringles. But there's something immensely satisfying about a sangie made from two slices of bread and two of these.

I'm truly rambling and pointless tonight. I'd apologise, but hey; you were warned.

As I said earlier. We're supposed to be knocking off. But I think I'll stick around and see if anything happens next.