It had all but escaped my notice, but will come as no surprise to regular readers. This blog is now officially terrible.
It has all the hallmarks, namely; frequent tantrums, regular spouting of meaningless drivel, and an unhealthy fascination with bodily functions. In fact it is just like any other two year old. Sadly though, it is not very likely that it will begin to develop signs of increasing maturity as it moves relentlessly from blog-toddlerhood to blog-kindergartendom.
It has been a fun couple of years on the whole, notwithstanding the attempts of Radio 4 to mess with my mind. I’ve met some lovely bloggy people (in a virtual sense that is) who are far saner and more mature than I can aspire to be, and they and this oeuvre have kept me as close to sane as I am ever likely to approach, so to all my many and varied therapists a big thank you is in order.
Sadly it’s too young for my favourite cake (a “bootlegger cake” made with tons of nuts, a modicum of rum, and a bourbon glaze for those who are interested) so I’ll just have to look after that for it myself, but there are party hats and hooters aplenty, and lots of crisps and e-number laden dainties to ensure another year of hyperactive misadventure for any who care to join in.
Oh, and a ball pool for us all to romp in, so don’t be shy, come and join the party!