It's been a long time since I bothered writing anything beyond a two line comment on this blog. Partly that's because I want to write stories more than self-analysis. The high-falutin' self-absorbed hypenated descriptive prose which flows turgidly from my keyboard... well, you get the idea. Can't be pushing that around and about. Adjectives are not my friends. I really must try to cut down my ellipsis addiction which would rage to about 40 a day if left unchecked.
No, stories are more the way forward. Many of my friends have blogs and that was a major influence in me getting a Blogger account. Of course I don't want to imitate them but I was in awe of the fantastic writing my friends produced. I envy the wry comedians, like Lord Miros or Ed Fife who share the ability to produce clear and funny pieces with maddening regularity. I'm bitter about the acuity of Rob's take on London lawyer life. And there are lots and lots of other people, like Jo Haslam, Andy Ward, The Bald Beast, Matt and David Young, whose blogs I read and enjoy. They express themselves clearly and seem to suffer no shortage of inspiration. I commend them all to you. Hell, they probably are you.(...)
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