You see, it's like this. I'll start writing something, look something up on the internet to avoid making a complete arse of meself, and thank gawd, 'cause then I'll realise the whole premise of that particular post was completely wrong wrong WRONG, and then that'll throw me off the writing track for, like, ever.
It seems I just can't be arsed these days. Also, it seems I love the word "arse". Arse arse arse arse. Obviously Blogger doesn't like it, 'cause it keeps flagging it as misspelled, but NO IT ISN'T. I'm just having a little British-spelling rebellious moment.
I don't know. I feel like being rude in the Queen's English, or something vaguely approaching it.
Actually I blame one of my workmates: she's decided that the way I speak reminded her of the gecko in the Geico commercials - now, anyone who's heard me talk will know I sound nothing like a gecko, let alone a Cockney-sounding one.
No matter. Now I want to use "mate" every other word, and work on my glottal stop.