I knew that title would capture your attention — I should go into marketing and online advertising!
For the record, I have NOT MADE A BABY.
As you may (not) know, today marks my nine month Bloggoversary: in other words, I published my first post nine months ago today. Oh, how lucky you all are that I decided to click publish on that post; without that, I wouldn’t even be writing this…
Anyway, as the biologists amongst you (I like to think I attract an intelligent fan base) will know, nine months is the period of time between the conception and the birth of a human child. Based on this, I have come to the conclusion that my blog is old enough to have a blogging kid! That’s terrifying…
I don’t think there’s a term for a blogging child. You know, there’s a specific word for a baby cow (calf), and for a baby goat (kid), but a baby blog? Maybe we need to invent that, and then write a letter to, uh, the word factory (just agree…) to get it instated in the dictionary. I think, for the sake of simplicity, it’d be the same word, regardless of language, like the word `selfie”‘ (not the blogger, although she too is an amazing part of modern-day life, celebrated globally).
Anyway, back to what I actually wanted to say in this post of mine, this postling. Why, I hear you ask, do I call this post, out of all my posts, a postling? Well, allow me to explain.
I don’t know.
Every time I write a Go-Me-I-Have-Been-Spewing-Crap-For-Yet-Another-Potentially-Significant-Number-Of-Months post, I always say how much I love you guys, and just how much you mean to me. Of course, this is still true: I still love you, you still mean the world to me and I still would now never want to live without each and every one of you guys. However, I feel it’s time to shake things up a little: wouldn’t want you getting bored now, would we?
This time, I thought what I’d do is write you a poem — aren’t you the lucky ones today? First, a post from me, and now a poem!
* Poem starts *
Poems are a form of art,
some write them every day.
But I just can’t be arsed right now,
so go outside and play.
* Poem concludes *
Well, wasn’t that a fabulous poem? Maybe I should recite that to my imaginary blog-child… It’s a good ide, no? Although, saying that, I don’t want my child knowing language like `arsed”‘ before he knows how to say `L”‘; I’d get jealous for, um, arses… Yup, definitely.
Wow, this post has suddenly got a lot of words saying a whole lot of nothing… What have I actually achieved in the last nearly-five-hundred words?
`A lot”‘, did you say?
Regardless, happy nine-months to me, eh? I hope (for your sakes) that I go on for at least another nine months: I mean, c’mon — imagine how depressing your lives would be without moi… I know, it’s just too awful to contemplate. Quick, remove that thought from your mind: think of cute bunnies eating pizza under rainbows, surrounded by sweets and unicorns.
… There, there — everything’s better now.
With that, I shall leave you to enjoy whatever you were doing before you decided to come and read this shizzle. I hope that you have a nice time doing, erm, whatever you’re doing, and can I just say that I love that top: it looks AMAZIN’ on you!
* I chose top as the item of clothing in question as I sincerely hope that all of my readers are wearing tops of some sort — onesies count. *