Monday, February 06, 2006

Did I Tell You

The public vote is open for the Irish Blog Awards. We're there, nominated four or five times, under 'John & Paul' rather than 'Lennon & McCartney'. Not a big deal really. I'm nominated as best blogger, despite my hermitism of late. Robert Meehan. Do me a favour and go vote. Do it justice and read through the nominations. Vote for the best rather than the most popular or whoever your friend is.
As for my return to blogging proper, it should be the coming weekend. I have a mega project due on Friday, on which I spent six hours writing this evening only to discover that I had been writing completely irrelevant claptrap. Gah. As I said to Ian on the phone, it feels like I spent today just boning myself. I'm experiencing the same tightness of sphincter and bloody discharge.
I'll leave it here for fear I might start personal blogging rather than the usual and more popular bullshit blogging.


  1. Oh real good Idea, tell everyone to vote for ye and then stop putting up new posts when the awards are anounced. God damn if ye fuck up my chance of getting free ice-cream I am flaging this site.

  2. I'm not fat i'm just big boned. And thats it credible your gettin a flagging too.
    ddc: They are Irish awards. We have to make ourselves feel special, like America when they hold a world series in a sport no one else plays.

  3. Bloody discharge.

    My favourite. At least it's not coming out o' your cock.


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  5. I was tied to the personal blogging route for a while. With both hands. By choice. But I got free thanks to yoga and sharp incisors. I ran til I no longer recognised where I was. I stopped deep inside a forest with prickly undergrowth and marshy soil. It was all right. Time and care didn't recognise me. In fact, they recognised no man. Just walked on by stone faced.

    Writing personally on a spiritual level it's not as rewarding in the bullshit sphere here as it was in the personal blogging realm. But the physical level rocks. I am alone. Just the hand to guide me.

    Wau-wau, chi-ka-chi-ka, wau-wau.

    And eclectic disrobe funk music plus lewd images in me head. They're there too.

    Wau-wau, chi-ka-chi-ka, wau-wau.

    V is for voting, right? Got it.