I feel a duty

Is there supposed to be a deadline? A time limit within which I am supposed to write things on here? I swear I feel guilty if I don't write for a while. That's not what I signed up for. I came on here merely to find an outlet for words which would normally stay with me and therefore mean nothing to anyone else, however, when I haven't written anything for a few days I get all "ooooooh must update my blog!" Now why is that? It's not like I am getting paid, I don't have a heaving thrall of readers hanging on my every letter, I don't even have a quintet I reckon. Ah well, I am here now. Just going for a ciggie hang on .

Hi, I'm back. Miss me? Liar.

I didn't win the lotto again. I understand that you have got to be in it to win it, but I have been in it since the very first draw and in that time I reckon I have funded a sculptor in Norwich to create a life size depiction of Jennifer Saunders entirely from old soap, an aspiring olympian - training to be the first person with asthma to succesfully throw a javelin further than I can spit, and the renovation of a house, a very big house in the country. I have won less than I would garner if I visited all the houses in this town and asked to look behind their sofa cushions..."ooh an old werthers original..........oh...........hang on............yes.................awwwwwwwww it's a bottle cap".

I have run out of aftershave. I like smelling nice, yet my financial resources are limited (see bottle caps above). I have considered visiting various waiting rooms, finding magazines and rubbing my neck on the free samples. Trouble is, knowing my luck I will accidentally do that in a psychiatric doctor's waiting room and be sectioned for trying to get off with a copy of Loaded.

I can't think of anything else to say, so instead I shall say nothing.






See.