The worst musical act in the world fun continues apace at Scaryduck but I’ll stop talking about it here and just carry on leaving comments on his blog.
Talking of which you, my dear readers, are slacking. Apart from the 70’s throwback (and Simon and Steve, steady on chaps) there is usually only a fine patina of dust hanging around the comments on this here blog. I don’t ask for much in return for the hours of sweat I expend coming up with these witty vignettes but the odd comment from some of you would be nice.
If you are ashamed of being seen to contribute to this page, well shame on you. But perhaps you could adopt a nickanme. We do have some already assigned, but the shy and retiring are welcome to hide behind a veil of witty punning.
This, of course, means that I’ve got to come up with some new comedy phrases for people who are likely to get more than a passing reference by me. Top of the heap, natuarally, is my first born son and heir, and the current front runner for him is BWMBO but I’m not too convinced of that one.
Number One Son, perhaps?
Appologies from the Palmers Mr Todd, we know our comments have been sparse of late. My only excuse is that I am currently expeding the energy that I would normaly put into responding to to aledged wit on berrating my web host, who still havent;t got the server sorted out after losing my entire site. It’s now been 5 week since I have had a functioning blog. I am now sorly tempted to write the whole thing off as a bad experience and change hosts to your wonderful mob.
Sorry to the rest of you for unburdening my woes here, but with MrsP away and no blog this is the nearest available outlet.