Ask me something…


…as long as you think I know the answer. Somebody very wise asked me yesterday – ‘what happens to all the dead blogs?’ knowing full well that I’d have to make up a convincing answer on the spot…
Well if you google that particular question (in a slightly more googly way – so as not to confuse it’s big giant googly head) then the answer is obvious – nobody has a clue. There are a humungous amounts of people writing a ginormous amount of drivel out there everyday – a vast majority of it going unread – or worse still – read and discarded like a forgotten teddy bear lying in a box on top of a wardrobe or a set of DP‘s dentures going mouldy next to the bath…

But it’s my drivel and I want to write it! And I can start sentences with ‘and’ and ‘but’ and never use apostrophe’s correctly. And I can write it and nobody can never ever read it now or ever again if they like – or not – I just don’t care….

What was the question?

Maybe there should be a law against writing utter rubbish and publishing it on the internet. Hang on – I think the police are at the door…

I didn’t surf today…


  1. So there you are. I thought you’d emigrated…… Oh, you have.

    *But it’s my drivel and I want to write it!*
    I couldn’t possibly comment …. Oh, I have.

    I defend your right to write it.
    I defend my rite to right it. That’s …… OK!

  2. nothing useful to add, except T-Shirt wisdom: “More people read this shirt than your blog”. i shrugged, acknowledged that i don’t care how many people read my drivel, then whacked the t-shirt wearer in the head with a stick for being a turd.

  3. It’s always good to know that ones prolificacy in drivelling propensity is so profoundly proportionate to ones parental propagation of proctological produce.
    Ah – I am a prosaist and I didn’t know it…

    Which brings us neatly to Ms Fae – they should have ‘turd-whacking’ at Carnivals…

  4. The dead blogs always seem to get resurrected, although not by the original owner, more often by spam businesses or porn pushers.
    Blimey, that’s the most sensible comment I’ve left anywhere for a long time.

  5. i didnt know that blogs died,i merely thought the authors got girlfriends or boyfriends!or a virus therefore disallowing entry to ones domain where you are monarch over all you survey(usually a tft screen thats on the blink)and therefore didnt have time to pursue the hot bed of passion and groundbreaking ideas that is blogging because of a reshuffle with said person or persons priorities,so its with education in mind that i read articles like the piece we are discussing at present.the death of a blog?does it not just float in cyber space(where is this place i hear so much about,it like dark matter does it really exist?)any way my point is you dont have to have a blog to talk lots o shite!i think you could all benafit from a night down the pub with me lars rod and penfold next friday campsite opening party your all welcome.see you at work 2moro mark i may be a little hungover!

  6. where do bad blogs go when they die? dunno, guess we won’t see ‘em again till the fourth of july …

    ps: where will YOU be on the fourth of july ??? xxx

  7. why is bottom E string on a guitar at the top of the instrument and why is F such a tricky little f**ker and why does no-one warn you how addictive playing it is?

    sorry, thats three, but november’s was the only other question so i thought i would beef it up a bit – yeah and where does that phrase come from?

    and where the bleedin hell is the effing sun?

    i think i probably better stop now eh..? xxxx

  8. Steady on Bedshaped old bean you’ll do yourself a mischief…

    AD – I have nothing to say to you that hasn’t already been said.

    Ms November – I shall be somewhere over there with the loverly Ms Bravo. Or Tango (grrr). Or the naughty Ms November… xxx

    Miss UDH – er no questions that I don’t know the answer to please. How’s you? All groovy I hope… x

  9. oh bum…if you dont know then who the devil does?
    hey..there’s another one lol.

    I’m okay squirrel thanks for asking – upsey and downsey but still paddling. Sounds a bit like surfing 🙂


  10. There’s a party? Where…? When? Tell me DP isn’t invited – he’ll only end up smoking weed and throwing up under the kitchen sink (again) ….

  11. Yes that was a no. It’s still a no although partially a yes and a definite will watch the rest when I get the chance. Cheers for the suggestion it looks fab…

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