I had a day filled with the stuff I never write about and so am a bit stuck. It's not that I want to keep you away from 80% of my reality but I have this 80% of my reality I want to keep you away from. This sort of thing always leads me to consideration of my obligation to you, whom I by times collectively refer to as "Shackle". Say it with a Dickensian sort of accent. Slur slightly on the "sh". There. You have it.

So I get up, turn on the computer, think of something to think and only hear the echoes of nada. But I have this plan. My plan is I write every day to save my brain the second cup of coffee on average and to pretend that writing every morning is as virtuous as jogging every morning with the added benefit that it is easier to eat buttered toast when I do this compared to jogging. Still stuck, I check trust worthy news sources like the BBC and find something like this to reference:

The prunes had their stones removed and replaced with miniature maps or other documents which were smuggled to prisoners of war in occupied countries.

But then only start to drift, to think how silly the whole thing is, how odd the triumphalism of blogs over traditional news sources is, seeing as 96% of all blogging is of the "Look! A story about how prunes helped beat Hitler!" variety.

No wonder I retreat to the visceral pleasures of the banjo.