What's going on here, ladies and gents?
I type a couple of sentences on Friday and I get more comments than for all of my posts so far put together, and three times as many visitors as my usual daily rate?
Is that some elaborate April's fool prank played on me by the blogosphere at large? Have you all been conspiring behind my back? Well, please, go on! I'm loving this.
Unless... you're trying to send me a message: the shorter the post, the better. In which case... well I don't know, I'm torn. Either I obediently follow that unspoken piece of advice (or plea) and I keep my personal record-breaking stats, not to mention you, my dear dear readers.
Or I pig-headedly plough on and waste more valuable hyperspace (cyberspace?) with each long-winded, oh so long-winded, probably extremely boring too, oh so boring, and wobbly English-wise, oh so... no my English is perfect, you said so yourselves (go on, check in those numerous, oh so numerous comments) posts. Are you loving this yet? Because I am. I'm not even sure if the sentence above makes sense, but believe me, in the state of tiredness I'm in right now, I'm sure it could not make any more sense.
Yes, my neighbour has been walking again. Well, that's all it takes. Her walking. On her floorboards. At bloody 8:00 am on a Saturday. We're going to have us a little talk, her and me. I'll bring my baseball bat.
* I'm not sure how you type this particular onomatopoeia, but you know what I mean, right: whoa, woo-oow!
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