I have been tagged and I hate that. Cormac Moylan is now on my death list.

Tagging reminds me too much of the school playground. I'd be standing minding my own business, when someone would run up behind me, hit me over the head with a brick and shout "you're it". I'd then have to do the same to some other unfortunate.

Normally I'd ignore a tag, but this is a question people keep asking.

Why do I blog?

Answer: I DON'T KNOW.

I started, because I knew nothing about blogs. I'd only read one or two and they were boring. I couldn't see the point. So I thought I'd give it a try to see what the fascination was.

And there were a few things I wanted to rant about, and it seemed to be a good way of getting things off my chest. I have used the word 'catharsis' before and I got into trouble for it.

"Stop using big words yiz don't know the meaning of. Yiz git"

But I do know the meaning of it and it is the right word. Look it up for yourselves. I could have used the word 'abreaction' but that would have caused even more confusion.

Anyway, having started, I found that people were starting to react. I didn't want to disappoint the poor souls by stopping, so I sort of carried on. For a while. a day or two. I'll stop tomorrow….

So why do I do it now?

Am I a frustrated author? No. I never had ambitions to write, and had written nothing before except statements to the police and things like that.

Am I in it for the fame and fortune? No. I have tried [unsuccessfully] to keep my identity a secret. The press and the TV people approached me. Not the other way around. I have made a few sheckles out of it, but not enough to take a holiday or buy a pad in the Bahamas.

Am I showing off? No. I am very happy with myself, and don't need to prove myself to anyone, or to seek approval.

Am I a latent comedian? No. I don't have a sense of humour. I am renowned for being somewhat dry. I am not the life and soul of the party. I am the quiet type. If people find my writing funny, maybe they need help in some way?

So why do I continue? Because I get a laugh out of comments that people write. I enjoy annoying people [I said I didn’t have a sense of humour – I didn’t say I wasn’t weird]. It has opened strange doors that I didn’t even know existed [I’ve been invited to contribute to a podcast in America]. I have met [cyber-met?] a lot of interesting people.

One strange thing is that apart from Herself and Offspring, I have only met two other bloggers face to face, and one of those meetings was long before I started blogging.

So, I'm retired. I have spare time. For physical reasons, I have to sit a lot [mind your own business!!]. So it is a pleasant way of passing some time. It is a harmless hobby. Except when Herself starts nagging about the time I spend doing it – then it becomes a liability.

I still don't really know why I do it.

So now for the interesting bit………

What poor b*st*rds will I tag?

I'm tempted to tag Twenty. But he's ego is a bit overripe at the moment and he'd only say it was a gay thing anyway. [I’m going to get him for that crack eventually].

I had a short-list, but most of them have been tagged already.

I can't tag Herself or K8 the GR8 because they'd only say I forced them into it [A lie].

So here goes:

John of Dublin

Dario Sanchez

Brianf

Jefferson Davis

That should be enough for now. There are enough people who hate me already, without adding too many more. The last two, by the way, are purely to p*ss off a couple more Americans.

I don't really expect them to take me up on this. Though it's a better tag than the usual "list 100 people you want to shag" type of thing.

And don't anyone try tagging me again in the future. Tiddles has a big appetite.