A no email day. Not a one.
Cutprice viagra. Begging letters from THAT Rwandan princess (stalking bitch). The Force India Formula One team. Facebook comments. Alerts on this here wonderblog. Conspicuous by absence.
The blogging community is in Galway trying not to sleep with each other, then sleeping with each other, while I whittle away the dying light of this sleepy Saturday with football and a nice cup of Camomile tea.
The dogs aren't barking and even next door have hit the mute button, their weekend revelry replaced by fridge buzz and crickets.
I'll be sleeping sober when the hour stealing bastards come, before belching me up at Stupid O'Clock for another Sunday pushing buttons and hitting 'send.'