I have been looking back at my recent efforts.
What a load of shite!
I honestly don’t know why people bother coming back, especially those who say it’s a daily read. Don’t be telling me my outpourings are witty of incisive or whatever as I know the truth and I know you’re just trying to be kind.
My newest splurge of visitors from China are still flocking in. As I type they are in second place behind the UK. All the rest are way back in the field, with Ireland in sixth place behind the States, Australia and Canada. Maybe the Chinese are using this site to learn how to write English proper?Maybe they’re keeping tabs on me to see how much I know about their precious home-grown virus? Whatever the reason, at four in the morning [Irish time] they come flocking in, regular as clockwork. That’s news, but only of interest to me.
The reason for the shite is the utter lack of anything mildly interesting about life at The Manor these days.
Daughter unexpectedly turned up this morning and mowed the field [twice as it was in bad shape]. She had to keep stopping to shift frogs to safer ground. This means a lot to me [the mowing and I suppose the frogs too] but it’s of little interest to anyone else.
Prince Andy is giving two fingers to the States and their paedo claims. Again, who gives a flying fuck whether he gave a flying fuck or not?
They have discovered that one fifth of the population here has fallen out with friends or relatives over the virus thing. This is hardly a surprise given the appalling way the mess was handled. Not news.
My Shingle Bells continue to annoy me but I have mentioned that once or twice before so that’s definitely not news.
You see my problem? Nothing to write about so I write about shite.
You see what I mean? I have just filled half a screen with nothing, or rather scribbling about scribbling about nothing? That really takes some doing.
Maybe I should just write when I have a poo?